TMNT Shell Shots
by CJtheStoryteller
Summary: This is a random collection of TMNT one-shots, including stories based on Broken Foot, Power Inside Her, The Deadly Venom, Requiem, Heart of Evil, Owari, Monkey Brains, The Creeping Doom, Scroll of the Demodragon, Raphael: Mutant Apocalypse, Buried Secrets, Metal Rewired, Lone Rat and Cubs, and Monsters Among Us **TMNT Universal Reader's Choice Awards 2016 and 2017 nominee/winner**
1. Fractured Trust (Broken Foot One-shot)

**_*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise._**

 ** _*'TMNT Shell Shots' Summary:_** **_This story is a collection of random TMNT one-shots._**

 ** _*'Fractured Trust' Summary: After Leonardo's decision to secretly help Karai puts his brothers' lives in danger, he must deal with the consequences of his actions. *Note: this is a 'Broken Foot' one-shot about what transpired during the turtles' trip back to the lair after the chemical plant explosion._**

 ** _*Author's Notes: I'm excited and a little nervous to post my first ever one-shot on FanFiction. This short story takes place during the episode 'Broken Foot.' It starts right after the turtles escape the overturned Party Wagon and leads up to their return to the lair. I wanted to write a little something to convey what Leo was feeling inside after the incident at the chemical factory. I also wanted to explain why Raph was such a wreck by the time they reached the lair._**

 ** _If you like this one-shot, please favorite, follow, and/or review it to let me know. I would really appreciate the feedback._**

 ** _Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ_**

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 **Fractured Trust**

The full moon was radiating particularly bright over the streets of New York City. So bright, the two oldest turtles could easily see the rage smoldering in Tiger Claw's yellow eye while he visually scanned the alley in search of them. The mutant Bengal tiger stood in all of his immensity atop the turtles' upended vehicle with his huge, powerful front paws clenched into tight fists at his sides. His chest was heaving with untamed fury and each breath came out as a gravely sounding growl.

Leonardo and Raphael were currently crouched over the ledge of a roof overlooking the beast, their eyes glowing stark white as they silently watched their enemy from above, but only for a few fleeting seconds. A moment later, they receded into the shadows, out of sight, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Tiger Claw would veer his gaze upwards. They could not chance being seen right now. Not with one brother already down for the count.

It was actually a bit of a miracle that they hadn't been spotted when they had clumsily scaled up to the rooftop just after their enemies had rolled the Party Wagon up onto its side, putting a rather unpleasant end to the brief high-speed chase that they had been the unwilling participants of.

The turtle brothers' souped-up former hippy van had tipped over and skidded to an abrupt halt in a darkened alleyway not long after Rocksteady and Bebop had used a claw-like attachment on the front end of their very own souped-up van to rip one of the Party Wagon's back wheels off.

Luckily, the four brothers had all managed to escape the 'accident' virtually unscathed, but the Party Wagon had not fared nearly as well as they had. Donatello was going to pitch a fit when he woke up and saw the damage that Shredder's goons had done to their vehicle.

 _If he woke up . . ._ Leonardo thought with the heaviest of hearts. He then let out a tremulous sigh as he turned and looked down at his second youngest brother, whose limp body was presently cradled in Michelangelo's protective arms. If the expression on Mikey's face was any indicator, their injured brother had still not shown any signs of improvement. The smile that Mikey normally wore was missing and Leo could see that his youngest sibling's bright blue eyes were glossy with tears.

Tears started to sting Leo's own eyes as he knelt down next to his unconscious brother and gently brushed a hand against the side of his face. Donnie's mouth was slightly ajar and his eyes were sealed shut. He still had not made any attempts to move, which was starting to make dread fester in the pit of Leo's already uneasy stomach. The oldest turtle wasn't sure just how extensive Donatello's injuries were at this point. As much as he had desperately wanted to check on his incapacitated brother's condition, they had been too busy trying to save their shells from Shredder's cronies for Leo to stop and assess his purple-clad brother's wounds. The only information that Leo had gotten on Donnie's status so far had come out of Raph's angry mouth.

" _We were looking for you when Donnie got blown up!"_

Just thinking about what Raph had said made Leo's chest tighten with horror.

 _Donnie got blown up . . ._

The gut-wrenching words repeated in Leo's head, over and over again.

 _Donnie got blown up . . ._

Everything had been such a blur since Leonardo had discovered that his brothers had come after him . . .

He had been running along the rooftops, trying to get away from the enemy, when he had caught a glimpse of his three brothers out of the corner of his eye. His heart had nearly leapt out of his chest when he had seen Raph and Mikey carrying Donnie away from the burning building that he himself had just fled. He had never expected that his brothers would show up.

They were supposed to be back at lair sleeping . . .

They weren't supposed to even know that he was gone . . .

They weren't supposed to be there . . .

But they were . . .

Leonardo's heart started to pound wildly inside of his chest again and the once simple task of breathing suddenly became a challenge. Things had been so crazy since going inside of that factory. Leo hadn't really had a chance to fully process what had happened, but now that things had slowed down enough to think straight, realization was hitting him like a stack of bricks and it felt as though his insides were being crushed.

" _We were looking for you when Donnie got blown up!"_

The sudden awareness that his brothers had been inside of Shredder's chemical factory when it had blown up was nothing short of mortifying. That was because it had been the very same factory that Leo himself had helped Karai and Shinigami blow up in their ongoing efforts to covertly take down Shredder's operations. The oldest turtle had once again put his brothers in danger because he had let his feelings for Karai cloud his judgment.

His brothers could have been killed because of him . . .

Finally, Leo realized that he had gotten in way over his head this time, and now, he was staring down at the devastating consequences of his actions.

 _Donnie got blown up . . ._

Leo's entire being filled with unspeakable remorse as he reached out and squeezed a hand around his genius brother's slack forearm.

Donnie was hurt and it was all Leo's fault. The guilt was overwhelming, but the oldest turtle could not allow himself to be consumed by his burdens right now. Not with Tiger Claw still trying to hunt them down. What the leader needed to focus on at the moment was getting his injured brother to safety. The sooner, the better.

With newfound purpose, Leonardo made several hand gestures to signal that it was time to go. Both Raph and Mikey nodded their understanding, although the hotheaded turtle did so with a deep scowl fixed on his face.

The three brothers then carefully lifted their injured brother up and carried him across several rooftops, using as many large objects and shadows as they could to cloak their movements. Other than a few soft moaning sounds from Donatello, they remained silent as they passed from building to building. Leonardo was not sure if the silence was just because they were trying to elude the enemy or if it was because Raph and Mikey were giving him the cold shoulder treatment. Either way, the oldest turtle decided that it was probably best if he kept his mouth shut for the time being.

Once they felt that it was safe to do so, they climbed down the side of a building to the pavement below. This was a lot more challenging than normal with an unconscious brother in tow, but they managed to make their way down to the ground without incident. Now, they just needed to find the nearest manhole and slip down into the darkness of the city sewers so that they could start the long journey home.

Yes, it would have been quicker and easier to stick to the rooftops, but with Donnie injured, they couldn't risk a possible confrontation with the enemy. They needed to stay hidden, and what better way to stay hidden than in the depths of the city sewers?

As they gently lowered their genius brother down the maintenance ladder, he whimpered and fussed a little, but the commotion did not appear to have disturbed his slumber. He still seemed to be completely oblivious to the world around him as his brothers began to trudge towards the lair.

Leo was on one side of Donnie, holding him up by his shell, while Raph was on the other side, doing the same. Donnie's feet were practically dragging along the concrete as his two shorter, older brothers hauled him through the underground caverns.

Hearing the sound of Donatello's deep and steady breathing beside him somehow made Leonardo feel slightly better. The eldest turtle instinctively pulled his injured brother closer, more out of comfort than necessity.

Though there was only the distance of their wounded brother between them, at the moment, Leo felt as though he and Raph were miles apart.

No one had spoken a word since their escape. Not even Mikey, who they normally couldn't get to stop talking.

The youngest turtle was currently walking in front of his three older brothers, keeping an eye out for any potential threats lurking in the darkness. In his hand, he clung to Donnie's bo-staff with a white-knuckled grip. Leo couldn't help but to wonder if Mikey's hold was that tight because of anger or fear. Maybe it was a little bit of both . . .

The further they got down the tunnels, the more tension Leonardo could feel hanging in the already dense air of the sewers. He could hear that Raph was breathing heavier than normal and he pretty sure that it wasn't just from the exertion of carrying Donnie. Leo guessed that the change in breathing was more likely the byproduct of his confrontational brother fighting like shell to internalize his rage.

To say that the situation was awkward would have been a severe understatement.

They were a little over halfway home when oldest brother couldn't stand the unvoiced friction any longer.

"Let's take a break, guys," Leonardo suggested, and without waiting for any of his brothers' consent, he stopped his forward momentum. This forced the red-masked turtle to stop as well, which did not please him one little bit. Though Donnie was blocking Leo's view of the expression, the oldest turtle could feel the murderous glare coming from Raph as he reluctantly ceased his movement. An objection was on the tip of the angry turtle's tongue, but he did not put voice to it for fear of saying or doing something that he might regret later.

Leo and Raph then carefully lowered their wounded brother down onto a dry slab of concrete.

Mikey was instantly on the ground next to the genius turtle, gently lifting Donnie's head up so that he could scoot his crossed legs underneath his injured brother. Mikey then rested Donnie's head in his lap, letting his brother use him as a pillow. The youngest turtle was just doing whatever he could to make his big brother as comfortable as possible.

"How is he, Mikey?" Leo asked, crouching down beside his two baby brothers. For the first time since Donnie had been injured, Leo now had an opportunity to take a good look at his brother, but it was difficult to see much of anything in the scant lighting of the sewers. As far as Leo could tell, Donnie didn't appear to have any broken bones or open wounds, but that didn't mean that his injuries weren't life-threatening. The fact that he was still unconscious was proof that there were internal injuries and this had Leo teetering on the edge of panic. A considerable amount of time had passed since the explosion and Donnie had yet to show any signs of waking. Leo was scared of just how badly his genius brother had been injured by the blast.

The blast that Leo had caused . . .

Raph's words once again repeated in the back of Leo's mind.

 _Donnie got blown up . . ._

His youngest brother's frail voice then interrupted Leonardo's troubled thoughts.

"He won't wake up," Michelangelo stated the obvious to his two older brothers, but it still hurt to hear it, just the same.

"I know, Mikey." Leonardo used his soft, big brother tone in an effort to soothe his distraught baby brother's nerves. The leader then placed his hand on Donnie's upper plastron and felt the rise and fall of his wounded brother's chest as he asked his next question. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Finally, Raph couldn't hold his anger back any longer and it poured out of him in the form of words.

"I'll tell you what happened! You snuck out of the lair to go off on your own! Again! And because we were stupid enough to go after you, we almost got killed! If it weren't for Donnie, we would have been blown to bits and it would have been all your fault!" Raph snarled, throwing his hands in the air in utter disgust.

Just the thought of what Donnie had done back at the factory made Raph's muscles tense with anxiety. In the back of his mind, Raphael could still hear Donnie's panicked voice, screeching out from behind them . . .

" _Guys! Out! Quick!"_

Donnie had saved them. If not for his quick reaction time and him promptly shoving them into a slightly more secure location, the three of them would have been incinerated by the explosion. Donnie had protected them, but in doing so, he had left himself more vulnerable to the blast that had followed a few seconds later.

When the explosion had gone off, Donnie had taken the worst of it.

Raph cringed at the memory. The awful mental image of Donnie splayed out on the top of that car after the blast had violently thrown them from the building would forever haunt him. He was never going to be able to forget seeing his brother's arm dangling lifelessly over the side of the car that had mercilessly broken his fall.

The sound of Leo's voice snapped Raph out of his flashback and made his blood begin to boil. His oldest brother was the reason that Donnie was hurt.

"Listen, Raph . . . I know that I screwed up. I – " Leo attempted to apologize, but his now irate brother cut him off.

"You're darn right you screwed up! We would have never been inside of that building when it blew up if it weren't for you!"

The sheer malice in Raph's words made Leo wince, but he knew that he had deserved it.

"I know, I know . . . I'm just so thankful that you're okay," Leo said, thinking about how much worse it could have been. He hadn't meant for his words to come off as offensive, but Raph had taken them as such.

"Okay? Okay! Does Donnie look okay to you?" Raph roared and the volume of his voice threatened to collapse the entire sewer system. He then pointed a thick forefinger at his unconscious little brother to stress his point, though the gesture was not necessary. His meaning was already crystal-clear.

"No," Leo gasped out as his sorrowful eyes fell upon Donnie's sleeping form.

"You can't keep doing this to us, Leo! We're your brothers! When are you gonna learn to trust us? Huh?" Raph's tone held anger, but there was disappointment mixed in as well.

"It's not that I don't trust you." Leo quickly denied the accusation, but he had no actual evidence to corroborate his statement. After all, he had gone behind his brothers' backs and disobeyed his father in order to take down their sworn enemy. To make matters worse, he had secretly teamed up with their former enemy, who had tried to kill them multiples times in the past, and a girl that he barely knew, who seemed to him to be slightly unhinged. How was that _not_ a violation of trust?

Leonardo turned his head away in shame, wondering how he could ever expect his brothers to trust him if _he_ didn't trust them?

Then, Raph spoke as though he had been reading Leo's thoughts.

"Yeah, right, Fearless! If you trusted us, then you would have told us what you were doing! You wouldn't have been out sneaking around with your girlfriend, trying to take out Shredder on your own! We're supposed to be a team, Leo! You could have come to us! You could have asked us for help!" Raph barked with his usual bite.

Leonardo gazed up at Raph for a moment before casting his eyes down to the ground. The leader found it somewhat hypocritical that Raphael, of all turtles, was criticizing someone for not asking for help, but he did not question his hotheaded brother. Not after all that had happened. He just let his brother continue on with his rant, feeling as though Raph had earned the right to get this off of his plastron.

"I'm sick and tired of you keeping secrets from us! We're your brothers! Brothers aren't supposed to keep secrets from each other! This never would have happened if you would have just told us the truth!"

"I . . . I know," Leonardo breathed out before his voice momentarily failed him. He wanted so much to apologize for all the wrongs that he had committed against his family, but the words were trapped in his throat. Not that an apology was going to fix what he had done.

"You should have been there, Leo! You should have been with us, not her!" As Raph spoke, he turned his back to his older brother, acting as though he had done so out of anger, when he had really done so to hide the pain.

"I'm here now," Leo said barely above a whisper, knowing that it was of little consolation after the fact. His sapphire stare remained fixed on Donatello, not just because he was too ashamed to look at Raph at this point, but also because he felt obligated to look at the damage that he had done. Seeing Donnie this way was more than Leo could bear and he figured that he deserved every last bit of agony that it brought. He had done this to his little brother.

"It's too late, Leo. You weren't there when we needed you. If you would have been there . . . Donnie – " Raph had to pause for a moment, as his voice was starting to fade and crack without his consent. He gruffly cleared his throat before finishing what he had to say.

"He wouldn't have gotten hurt. He would have never been inside of that factory if you would have just trusted us."

The words still came out softer than Raph had intended, but he couldn't help it. He was struggling to deal with the onslaught of emotions that were suddenly inundating him. Leo had essentially betrayed them, and as a result, Donnie had gotten hurt. Raph hated it when any of his brothers got hurt, because it meant that he had failed to protect them. But what Raph hated even more about this particular situation was that Donnie had gotten hurt trying to save his shell. Big brothers were supposed to protect their little brothers, not the other way around.

"Uh, guys, speaking of Donnie, I think we should get him back to the lair now. He doesn't look so good," Mikey announced and there was no mistaking the worry in his tone.

Upon hearing the obvious concern in his youngest brother's shaky voice, Raph immediately knelt down beside Donnie and began to check his injured brother over.

Though Raph wasn't about to openly admit it, Mikey had been right. Donnie didn't look good at all. He was much paler than before and his breathing sounded more labored than it should. Raph had also noticed that the constant cooing and moaning noises that his brainiac brother had been making earlier were getting further and further apart. The hotheaded turtle reached out a hand and placed it over Donnie's forehead and he was appalled by how cold his brother's skin was to the touch. Raphael's head and heart both began to pound hard as fear took hold of him. The adrenaline that he had been running on since the explosion had all but worn off and reality was now starting to sink in.

"What's wrong with him? He's getting worse! Shouldn't he be getting better by now? And if he got blown up, why's he so cold?" Raph asked Leo, abruptly setting his anger and their differences aside so that he could concentrate on worrying. It was obvious that the most volatile turtle's grip on his composure was rapidly weakening.

"I . . . I'm not sure. Maybe he's going into shock," Leo said in a voice that lacked his usual confidence. He was all of a sudden at an uncharacteristic loss for answers, which was something that Raph didn't have the patience for right about now.

"Shock? What the heck does that even mean? Wh – What do we do for that?" Raph asked, attempting to sound undaunted, but it wound up an epic fail. Mikey and Leo could both hear the tremor in his voice and they could plainly see that their rough and tough brother was scared out of his shell, which in turn, started to scare the youngest turtle out of his.

"Dudes! I'm freaking out! Why are Raph's eyes going all crazy like that? What aren't you guys telling me?" Mikey whimpered as he volleyed his gaze from big brother to big brother, using his waterlogged eyes as a means to beg for answers to his questions.

"Mikey . . . Donnie . . . He's gonna . . . He can't . . . His . . . I – " Raph's attempt to respond to his youngest brother came out as nothing more than a jumbled up mess. It hadn't sounded at all like it had inside of his head.

As the team leader, Leo quickly recognized that the situation was spiraling out of control, fast. Raph was having some sort of a panic attack from the extreme stress and his behavior was already beginning to get Mikey all spun up into a tizzy as well. The last thing that Leo needed right now was for his two conscious brothers to have simultaneous nervous breakdowns. That certainly wasn't going to help their unconscious brother in any way.

Leo drew in a deep, cleansing breath, attempting to keep a level head amidst the chaos brewing. He knew that they needed to get Donnie home before Raph completely lost it and took Mikey down with him. Leo wasn't going to be able to carry all _three_ of his brothers home.

"Okay, guys, we all need to calm down. Master Splinter will know what to do. We just need to get Donnie back to the lair. Mikey, you get his arms and I'll take his legs," Leo said in his take-charge manner, and then, he moved towards his genius brother's lanky legs, but Raph was already there. Without so much as a word, the turtle in red curled his hands around the backs of his genius brother's knees and readied himself to lift. Despite being an emotional wreck, the hothead was evidently lucid enough to know that he didn't want Leo being the one to carry their injured brother. There was an unspoken 'Don't you dare even think about touching him after what you did to him' look burning in Raphael's fierce, green eyes.

Once again, Leonardo did not question his temperamental brother. Right now, the only thing that mattered was getting Donnie home to Master Splinter.

 _Master Splinter . . ._

Leo shuddered at the thought of having to face his father after all that had happened. How could he tell him what he had done? How could he tell Sensei that he had gone against his wishes and tried to help Karai take down the Shredder? How could he tell Sensei that Donnie had gotten hurt because of his actions?

The turtle dressed black rather than his usual blue stared down at his makeshift costume and silently cursed himself for letting things come to this.

Emitting a defeated sigh, Leonardo then resigned to his fate. He had no other choice than to tell his father what had happened. Not because he had gotten caught, but because it was the only way to begin to rebuild the trust that he had fractured.

Perhaps he had already damaged things beyond repair, but he still had to try to make things right . . .

"Let's go, guys," Leo commanded, temporarily pushing his feelings of fear and doubt aside for his injured brother's sake.

"It's gonna be okay, D. We'll get you back to the lair and Sensei . . . He'll fix you right up," Mikey reassured his unresponsive brother. The youngest turtle then hoisted up his brainy brother's upper body at the same time as Raph picked up his legs. A second later, Leo came up beside Donnie's left side and tried to help with the genius turtle's weight as best he could, even if Raph didn't approve. Again, right now, the only thing that mattered was getting their wounded brother home.

Donatello's three brothers then carried him all the way back to the lair, moving as fast as their legs could possibly take them. Their voices did not sound out again until they pushed through the turnstiles and the word 'Sensei' rang out three times.

They were finally home and it was now time to heal what had been broken.

Leo just hoped that everything that he had broken that night could be fixed . . .

 **The End**

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 ** _*Author's Notes: I really hope that you enjoyed 'Fractured Trust.'_** ** _Thank you very much for reading. Please review/favorite/follow this short story if you liked it. I would LOVE to know._ If you have any special requests or suggestions for future one-shots, please feel free to PM me. _;) CJ_**

 ** _*Update: I have already received a couple of requests to write an epilogue for the episode 'Broken Foot' where Leo apologizes to Donnie, so it looks like that's the next one-shot I'll be working on . . . Thank you so much for the suggestions ICantFindAnotherName and Kamechan98! ;)_**


	2. To Err is Turtle (Broken Foot Epilogue)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'To Err is Turtle' Summary:**_ _**After Leonardo's decision to secretly help Karai badly injures one of his brothers, the oldest turtle struggles to come to terms with his guilt. *Note: this is an epilogue/one-shot for the episode 'Broken Foot,' set shortly after Donatello regains consciousness.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Here's my second one-shot for 'Broken Foot.' Thank you so much to everyone who suggested that I write an epilogue for the episode. I really appreciate your suggestions and I hope that you like how it turned out. Also, thank you to everyone who read, 'favorited,' followed, and reviewed 'Fractured Trust.' The feedback I received on that story was amazing. You are all so kind. *hugs* :}**_

 _ **If you are enjoying these one-shots, please favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' to let me know that you want me to continue adding chapters to this collection. I would love the feedback. Thank you for reading. ;) CJ**_

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 **To Err is Turtle**

For the second time that night, Leonardo found himself sitting at the bottom of the concrete stairs outside of the Dojo. He was once again slouched over with his arms folded across his knees and his head hung down in shame. His father had just finished giving him one of the longest lectures in history and Leo's ego was still trying to recover from the verbal lashing. The last words that Master Splinter had imparted upon him continued to resound in his head . . .

" _Until I can meditate on the matter and come up with a suitable punishment for your reckless actions, you are not to leave the lair under any circumstances. I will let you know my decision in the morning."_

As Leonardo had watched Master Splinter disappear into his room to presumably 'meditate on the matter,' he had not been able to stop himself from shuddering in his shell. He dreaded what his father would deem a suitable punishment for his oldest son going behind his back and secretly working with his rebellious teenage daughter to try to take down the powerful army of his sworn enemy. As if those offenses alone hadn't been condemning enough, Leonardo had nearly gotten all three of his brothers killed in the process. There was no doubt in his mind that being grounded for his irresponsible conduct was just the tip of the iceberg. A far more painful fate surely awaited him once his father had a chance to thoroughly contemplate what he had done. Disobedience was something that Master Splinter did not tolerate.

It had been obvious to Leonardo throughout the course of the lecture that his father had been struggling to rein in his anger. Though Master Splinter's exterior had remained relatively calm for the entire duration of the talking to, his dark, intense eyes had revealed the fire burning inside of him while he had harshly, yet somehow calmly, chewed out his first-born son.

" _Even after I warned you of the cost of vengeance . . . Even after you saw firsthand the suffering your bad decisions had caused . . . Still, you went out seeking revenge, knowing that it was against my wishes. After all that happened, you still willingly put your other brothers at risk while I remained here, administering the Healing Hands to Donatello. Was it not enough that one of your brothers had already been wounded by your blind need for retribution? A leader must learn from his mistakes, not attempt to repeat them."_

Yes, it had been one epic lecture, all right. The only actual words that Leonardo had contributed to the 'conversation' had been a "Hai, Sensei" or two, which he had managed to sneak in when his father had paused briefly to take a deep breath before continuing on with his rant.

Leonardo couldn't remember the last time that he had made his father so furious. Probably not since the day that he had foolishly told Master Splinter that he had decided to let Raph take over as leader of the team. Leo had gone on to explain that he was tired of having to make all of the decisions and he was sick of being underappreciated by his brothers. His father had been quick to voice his strong opinions on the matter . . .

" _Leadership is not about being appreciated. It is about responsibility. It doesn't matter that the burden is heavy. It matters that you carry it."_

That scolding had not been nearly as long-winded as the one that Leonardo had just received from his father, but it had been a humiliating scolding, nonetheless. Leonardo remembered that particular day all too well. Not just because he had ticked his father off, but also, because it had been the same day that he had first met Karai.

 _Karai . . ._

Letting out a heavy sigh, Leo stared down at his T-phone and the unanswered text message that he had sent precisely three minutes ago.

 _Where R U?_

It was a carbon copy of the message that Karai had sent to him just after April had finished raking him over the coals.

Just the thought of April made Leo cringe. He had been sitting in almost the exact same spot when the fiery redhead had stepped out of the Dojo to give him a piece of her mind.

" _Leo . . . what were you thinking? I could have told you teaming up with those two was a bad idea."_

" _I don't know. I guess I thought I could control the situation."_

" _Karai's gonna do what she wants to do. You're supposed to be our leader."_

April had since headed home for the evening, but her disparaging words were still with him. She had gone a lot easier on him than she probably should have considering what had happened, but what she had said had still hurt just the same. Maybe that was because the words had rung so true.

" _Karai's gonna do what she wants to do."_

There was no questioning that statement. Ever since Leo had known Karai, she had always done things her way, regardless of the consequences. Whereas Leo was all about following the rules, Karai was all about breaking them. They were exact opposites in many ways, but yet, Leo had been inexplicably drawn to her from the moment they had met. There was something about her that made it impossible for him to think straight whenever he was around her. It was as though she had some sort of power over him. That was why he hadn't been able to say no when she had approached him about taking down Shredder's operations. He had realized that it was wrong from the very start, but still, he had agreed to help her. Even knowing how incredibly dangerous and irrational it was. Even knowing that his father and brothers would never approve, he had still gone through with it. His need to impress Karai and be the 'hero' had made him stupid.

 _So, so stupid . . ._

That one bad decision had almost killed all three of Leonardo's brothers. Because he hadn't told them the truth, his brothers had gone out searching for him and unknowingly entered the chemical factory that he, Karai, and Shinigami had just rigged to explode. Because of his actions, his younger siblings had been inside of the factory when the explosives had gone off. Because of his extraordinarily bad decision, Donatello had been seriously injured in the blast that Leonardo had helped detonate.

A shiver ran up and down Leo's spine when he thought about how close he had come to losing his brothers that night.

They weren't supposed to find out that he was gone and they certainly weren't supposed to come after him . . .

" _What are you guys doing here?"_

" _What are we doing here? We were looking for you when Donnie got blown up!"_

Closing his eyes for a moment, Leo drew in a ragged breath. The words 'Donnie got blown up' had been replaying in his head ever since Raph had uttered them.

After Donnie had been injured, they had been forced to carry him on foot through the sewers all the way back to lair. That had been because the Party Wagon had gotten taken out by the enemy.

That trip back to the lair had been one of the longest ones in Leonardo's life. His genius brother had been unconscious the whole time, his youngest brother had barely spoken a word to him, and his hotheaded brother . . . Well, he had given Leo the silent treatment at first, but when they had stopped for a moment to rest, Raph suddenly had more than enough to say. Master Splinter's lecture had been nothing compared to wrath of Hamato Raphael . . .

" _Listen, Raph . . . I know that I screwed up. I – "_

" _You're darn right you screwed up! We would have never been inside of that building when it blew up if it weren't for you!"_

" _I know, I know . . . I'm just so thankful that you're okay."_

" _Okay? Okay! Does Donnie look okay to you?"_

" _No."_

" _You can't keep doing this to us, Leo! We're your brothers! When are you gonna learn to trust us? Huh?"_

" _It's not that I don't trust you."_

" _Yeah, right, Fearless! If you trusted us, then you would have told us what you were doing! You wouldn't have been out sneaking around with your girlfriend, trying to take out Shredder on your own! We're supposed to be a team, Leo! You could have come to us! You could have asked us for help! I'm sick and tired of you keeping secrets from us! We're your brothers! Brothers aren't supposed to keep secrets from each other! This never would have happened if you would have just told us the truth!"_

" _I . . . I know."_

" _You should have been there, Leo! You should have been with us, not her!"_

" _I'm here now."_

" _It's too late, Leo. You weren't there when we needed you. If you would have been there . . . Donnie – He wouldn't have gotten hurt. He would have never been inside of that factory if you would have just trusted us."_

Again, the words had hurt because they had rung so true. He hadn't trusted his siblings with the truth. His feelings for Karai had made him betray his own brothers, _again_. If he would have just been honest with them, they wouldn't have been inside of the chemical factory when it had exploded. If he would have trusted them like he should have, Donnie would have never been injured in the blast. They could have lost their genius brother all because of Leo's carelessness. If not for their father's healing mantras, Donnie might have –

For obvious reasons, Leo couldn't complete that last thought. It was just too horrible to even comprehend. He instead reminded himself that Donnie was going to be okay. The Healing Hands had worked and his brother had regained consciousness. Donnie was awake now and everything was going to be okay.

 _Who I am kidding? Everything's not going to be okay,_ Leo mentally reprimanded himself, shaking his head in disgust over how he could possibly be so naïve to think that things were going to be just fine.

He had lied to his family. He had disappointed his father. He had broken his brothers' trust. He had hurt his own brother.

No, things were definitely not okay. Not by a long shot. He had screwed up, big time. He wasn't sure how to even begin to repair the damage that he had done, other than to apologize over and over again for his actions. He had already apologized to his father when he and his brothers had returned home after the explosion. Then, he had apologized to Raph and Mikey not long after that. But Leo had yet to apologize to Donnie for what he had done. That was because up until about twenty minutes ago, Donnie had been unconscious.

Again, Leo shook his head from side to side, knowing that his little brother had been badly injured because of his selfish and thoughtless behavior.

Slowly lifting his head up, Leo stared in the direction of Donatello's bedroom. If he was going to try to make amends for what he had done, the first thing that the leader needed to do was ask for forgiveness from the brother that had suffered the worst on account of his bad decision.

Pushing himself up off of the stairs that he had been sitting on for the last five minutes or so, Leonardo walked with a purpose towards the dormitory area. As he approached his second youngest brother's bedroom door, he could hear three distinct voices coming from inside of the room. The sound of his brothers made his heart somehow sink and soar at the same time. It also made him reluctant to enter the room. He had not realized that Raph and Mikey were still inside.

After Karai had stormed out of the lair, Master Splinter had immediately announced to his sons and April that he would like to have "a word" with Leonardo. Sensei had then asked Raphael and Michelangelo to help Donatello to his room so that he could get some rest. Leo had noticed that Raph and Mikey had been unusually quick to comply with their father's request. The oldest turtle was guessing that his brothers' lightning-fast response times had had something to do with Master Splinter's strict tone. It was either that or maybe they hadn't wanted to stick around to see their oldest brother get his shell chewed out. Well, maybe Raph had wanted to. Leo could have sworn that he had seen the ghost of a smirk on his immediate younger brother's face.

As his three brothers and April had slowly made their way out of the Dojo, Leo had just stood there, helplessly watching on. His genius brother had hardly been able to stand on his own two feet and he had clearly been in pain.

 _Pain that you caused, Leo . . ._

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Leo stared at the closed entrance before him. He could hear Donnie's voice participating in the conversation on the other side of the door, but his brainy brother did not chime in nearly as loudly or as frequently as Raph or Mikey. Granted, Donnie had always been the quietest of the four boys, so this was not out of the ordinary, but the shyest turtle's lack of involvement still made Leo worry and he was now that much more determined to go inside to check on his injured brother's condition.

Just as the oldest turtle was about to knock on Donatello's door, it opened and out stepped Raph.

Slightly startled by the red-clad turtle's sudden appearance, Leo took a couple of giant steps backwards to avoid getting plowed into by his volatile brother.

Upon seeing his older sibling, Raph instantly closed the door behind him and planted himself in front of it. He crossed his arms over his chest, acting as though he was a hard-nosed bouncer at a night club refusing to allow someone access.

Raph had always been the most protective brother, so it came as no surprise to Leo that ever since their younger brother had gotten hurt, the turtle in red had been watching over him a lot closer than normal. Even when they had been hauling Donatello back to the lair, Raph had gone so far as to glare at Leo for just trying to help carry their injured brother, nonverbally insinuating that the oldest turtle had no right to help after what he had done. Leo supposed that it had been somewhat warranted, but he still thought that his temperamental brother was being a bit more possessive than necessary. He just hoped that Raph would drop his whole 'bouncer' act without causing a scene . . .

"How is he?" Leo almost felt guilty for even asking the question, as if he didn't have a right to inquire. It seemed like he was invading his brothers' privacy.

"He's pretty banged up, but he'll live," Raph said, shrugging his shoulders.

Though Raphael's voice had come out standoffish as usual, Leo had heard the concern that his brother had been trying to hide underneath his gruffness.

"I was just gonna check in on him before I went to bed," Leo muttered as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. It was then that he realized that he still was donning his uncharacteristic black attire. He quickly dropped his arm back down so as not to draw any more unwanted attention to the homemade costume that he was wearing, knowing that Raph was probably just dying to make fun of it.

"So are you actually going to bed this time, or are you just gonna ditch us for Karai again the moment our shells are turned?" The snarkiness in Raph's tone and expression was truly something to behold. If Leo hadn't been the intended target of his brother's hostility, he might have laughed, or even applauded.

"I guess I deserved that," Leo groaned, twisting his face into a grimace while he cast his eyes down to the floor.

"You guess?" Raph scoffed, followed by a 'pffft' sound.

"I – I just want to apologize to him, is all." The words had come out just above a whisper as Leo's sapphire blue gaze met his brother's emerald green one.

Uncomfortable with Leo's sudden unwavering eye contact, Raph looked away and let out an irritated grunt.

"Fine, but if you say or do anything to upset him . . . " Raph didn't bother to finish the threat, leaving it hanging in the air like a noose over the gallows. He knew that he didn't need to elaborate any further. His older brother had gotten the point.

The hotheaded turtle then stomped off to his bedroom and disappeared inside, slamming the door shut so hard, it made Leo flinch.

Once his volatile brother was no longer obstructing his access to Donnie's doorway, Leo closed up the gap between himself and the entrance. Finally, he summoned up the courage to knock on his genius brother's bedroom door.

"What's the password?" Was Mikey's response from the opposite side of the door and the oldest turtle could hear his baby brother giggling over his own humor.

Leonardo rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, but he was careful not to let any irritation show in his voice as he answered his youngest brother.

"It's Leo. Can I come in?"

"Dude, what the heck kind of guess is that? Eh, close enough." The words had no sooner left Mikey's lips when the door opened.

For some reason, Leonardo felt his chest tighten and his heart begin to beat faster as he stepped inside of the room. It was almost like he was . . . _Nervous? Scared_?

Donnie was lying in his bed, propped up by several more pillows than seemed necessary – or even comfortable. No doubt the additional pillows were Mikey's doing. Whenever one of his brothers was sick or injured, the youngest turtle tended to turn into a regular mother hen.

Upon seeing his oldest brother enter the room, the corners of Donnie's mouth arched up into a warm smile that Leo was sure he did not deserve. Truthfully, Leonardo would have felt better if his injured brother would have glared or scowled at him like Raph had. The friendly expression just made the oldest turtle feel even worse about what he had done.

"Hey, Leo." Although Donnie had only spoken two words, the oldest turtle instantly picked up on the weariness in his brother's voice and it made his stomach coil with unease.

"Hey, Donnie," Leo replied much quieter than he had intended to. He then sidestepped around Mikey and slowly walked towards his wounded brother's bed. Though normally the most confident turtle, Leonardo's movements were timid and unsure. It was a rare show of weakness from the 'fearless' leader.

Despite the fact that the youngest turtle oftentimes missed the obvious, Mikey could see that his two older brothers needed some time to talk, which was totally fine by him, because he had a serious case of the munchies and there were still a couple boxes of Hellio's pepperoni pizza slices in the freezer calling out his name. He hadn't eaten anything since about an hour before they had gone out to search for Leo. That was way too long to go without food. It was a wonder that he was still able to function at this point. He needed to eat something, pronto.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone. Well, not really alone, I guess, 'cause you'll both still be in here which would actually be together . . . not alone. I just meant that I wouldn't be here . . . which still wouldn't actually make it alone, but you would totally be like – " Mikey probably would have rambled on for another ten minutes or longer if not for Leo interrupting him.

"We get it, Mikey."

The youngest turtle let out an embarrassed little chuckle before making his exit, leaving his two brothers to talk in private.

When the sound of Mikey unconsciously humming as he walked away faded to nothing, Leo drew in a deep breath to steady himself. He then sat down on the edge of the bed beside Donnie and turned his body so that he was facing his injured brother. He noticed that as soon as he had sat down, his genius sibling had started to pick at a loose string on his blanket. Leo wondered if it was something that Donnie was doing out of apprehension, or perhaps he wasn't even aware that he was doing it, sort of like Mikey and his humming.

"So . . . how are you feeling?" After all that had happened, Leo hated that he had just started off the conversation with small talk, but now that he was finally face-to-face with his little brother, he realized that he had no clue what to say, so he had just said the first thing that had popped into his head.

"I'm okay," Donnie answered bashfully and he pressed his lips into a thin, rather unconvincing smile. His gaze flicked up at Leo for a moment before it returned to his blanket.

Though the blanket that Donnie was currently fiddling with was concealing the majority of his thin form, Leo could see the light bruising starting to show on the parts of his brother's body that weren't hidden underneath the blanket, including his arms, chest, and head. He could also see that Donnie's olive green-colored skin had a faint reddish tint to it, almost like he had gotten a mild sunburn, but Leo knew better. He knew that the bruising and redness on his brother's skin had been caused by the explosion that _he_ was responsible for.

Again, Raph's words haunted his head . . .

" _We were looking for you when Donnie got blown up!"_

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut and inhaling deeply several times, Leo tried to keep his outward appearance calm. How could his little brother just lay there and say that he was okay, like nothing had happened? Like he hadn't gotten 'blown up?' Why wasn't Donnie chewing him out or giving him a lecture or laying a guilt trip on him like the others had? Out of all of them, Donnie had the right to be the most infuriated with him. So why wasn't he?

For some reason, Leonardo actually found himself wishing that his genius brother would just start yelling at him rather than showing no reaction at all. The oldest turtle didn't feel as though he was worthy of his brother's kindness.

"You can be honest with me, Donnie." As Leo had spoken those words, he had peered down at his brother with the most remorseful of expressions, like the weight of the world was bearing down upon him.

Donnie's reddish-brown eyes lifted to meet Leo's blue ones and a gap-toothed grin suddenly brightened his features.

"Well, my ears are ringing like a high-speed drill and my head kind of feels like someone's using it as a snare drum. The Healing Hands technique doesn't exactly get rid of all the symptoms, but don't worry. I'll be fine. I haven't conducted a complete examination on myself yet, but as near as I can tell, I just have a concussion, a bad case of tinnitus, a couple of cracked ribs, a few contusions, and some minor burns." Donnie had casually listed off his injuries as if he had been reading something straight out of a textbook. There was no trace of bitterness in his words. There was no resentment residing in his eyes. There was not one single shred of anger.

"That's not what I meant, Donnie. I meant that you can tell me how you _really_ feel." Frustration was starting to come through in Leo's voice. Again, he found himself wanting his brother just to show some kind of reaction, like the others had.

"I thought I just did that," Donnie said and his face creased with confusion.

It wasn't very often that the most perceptive brother failed to catch Leonardo's drift during one of their conversations. That was more of a Mikey thing . . . But right now, the genius turtle was definitely missing his older brother's point.

"I wasn't talking about your injuries, Donnie. I was talking about how you're feeling inside." Leo was vaguely aware that the slight amount of exasperation that had come across in his tone had betrayed his normally calm demeanor.

"What do you mean?" While Donnie asked the question, he gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position and gazed at his big brother with eyes full of concern. He could see that Leo was distraught, but he didn't understand why. He had just gotten done telling his oldest brother that he was going to be fine, so why was he getting all worked up?

Leo turned his head away, unable to look into his little brother's puppy-dog eyes.

"I just about got you killed tonight, Donnie, and you're acting like . . . You're acting like you aren't even mad at me," Leo uttered, keeping his stare fixed on his shoulder so that his brother wouldn't see his many mixed emotions.

"That's what this is all about? You think that I should be mad at you for what happened?"

There was the overly perceptive little brother that Leo had been missing. The one who sometimes knew the oldest turtle even better than he knew himself.

Leo turned his face back towards his younger brother and the frustration that he had been feeling just a few seconds ago instantly melted away, but a sense of self-pity soon took its place.

"Well, everyone else is . . . " Leonardo groaned miserably which made Donnie's expression turn sympathetic.

"Yeah, I'm guessing that Raph didn't take the whole thing very well. Truthfully, he wasn't all that thrilled with you, even before the explo – " The remainder of the word 'explosion' got stuck in Donnie's throat as he finally showed the first visible sign of distress. His eyes then drifted back down to his blanket.

Now, Leo was sure that his little brother was intentionally avoiding eye contact. Clearly, Donnie wasn't as unaffected by what had happened as he had been trying to make himself out to be. The awful events of the night had obviously upset his genius brother. Donnie just didn't want to admit it, but he didn't have to. Leonardo could see that his younger brother's hands were shaking as he tightly gripped the fabric of his blanket and he could see the slight quiver of Donnie's bottom lip while he fought to keep up appearances.

Seeing his little brother struggling to repress his emotions caused Leo to let the dam break on his own.

"I'm sorry, Donnie. I'm so sorry. I made a terrible mistake and because of that mistake, I could've lost you. I could've lost all of you!" Leo's voice cracked against his will as he gently grabbed a hold of his little brother's forearm and squeezed it, if only to comfort himself. The physical contact was verification that his brother was still with him.

Donnie's eyes found Leo's once more and he was about to speak when his older brother continued declaring his guilt.

"I should've let you guys know what Karai and I were up to. If I would've just told you the truth about what we were doing, you wouldn't have been inside of that factory when it blew up. You would've never gotten hurt if it hadn't been for me," Leo confessed and Donnie could hear that his older brother, who had always prided himself on staying levelheaded, was fighting to stay composed.

"Leo . . . " Donnie exhaled his brother's name, but could go no further with his intended sentence. His emotions were getting in the way of what he wanted to say.

"Don't even try to deny it, Donnie. I almost got you killed tonight because of my selfishness. After what I've done, I don't . . . I don't deserve to be leader anymore . . . "

After hearing his brother's last comment, Donnie's ability to speak came back in full force.

"That's not true, Leo! Listen, I'm not going to lie to you and say that you didn't screw up . . . You did. But just because you made a bad decision doesn't make you a bad leader. Yes, you were wrong to team up with Karai without telling us, and yes, you made a mistake, but being the leader doesn't mean that you aren't allowed to make mistakes from time to time." With that said, Donnie placed one of his hands over Leo's hand that was still gripping his forearm.

"But you guys could've died because of me, Donnie! You almost did!" Leo's blue eyes widened with anxiety as he listened to Raph's words repeat in his mind yet again . . .

" _We were looking for you when Donnie got blown up!"_

Donnie then spoke as though he, too, had somehow heard the hotheaded turtle's words replaying in his oldest brother's head.

"You had no way of knowing that was going to happen, Leo. And I'm sure if you thought there was even a slight chance of any one of us getting hurt, you would have never agreed to help Karai. I know you, Leo, and I know that you would do anything to protect us, including constantly putting yourself at risk in order to keep us safe. You're a good leader, Leo. You shouldn't ever doubt that. I know the guys and I . . . Well, we aren't exactly cooperative all the time and we can be really hard on you, but I think you're a lot harder on yourself than any of us could ever be."

When Donnie saw that his older brother still didn't look convinced by what he had said, he continued to reassure him.

"You do realize that you're not the only turtle in the lair who's made a bad decision over a girl, right? Do I need to remind you of the time that I snuck off on my own and broke into that Kraang facility to rescue Mr. O'Neil in order to impress April? Or how about the time that I totally ditched you guys to go save April from Karai and Chrome Dome? And let's not forget that night I – " Donnie could have reeled off at least a dozen more examples of bad decisions that he had made in the past, but Leo was kind enough to wave him off and spare him any further humiliation.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Leo said with a half-grin/half-wince and he playfully batted his brother's hand away. "And the moral of the story is, we all make mistakes . . . But that doesn't change what I've done, Donnie." The guilt was still written all over Leo's face, but Donatello didn't let it deter him from trying to cheer his big brother up, once again demonstrating the reason why they all went to the genius turtle whenever they _really_ needed someone to talk to.

"No, it doesn't, but I'm willing to bet that it'll change what you _do_. The next time that you're faced with a similar situation, I'm sure you'll remember what happened tonight and factor it into your decision. You and I both know that we can't change the past, no matter how hard we try, but we can change the future by learning from our mistakes."

Donnie's words made Leo feel as though the weight that had been pushing down upon him had finally been lifted off of his chest. No, Leo couldn't change what he had done, but he could learn from it. He could make sure that it never happened again and that his brothers never forgot how deeply sorry he was.

Maybe in time, everything would be okay.

Maybe in time, his family would learn to trust him again, so long as _he_ learned from his mistakes . . .

"All right, Donnie, that's enough of that. Now you're just starting to sound like Master Splinter," Leo stated snidely as he turned away from his brother and folded his arms across his plastron, pretending to be offended, but the big smirk on his face suggested otherwise.

"Oh, look who's talking. Raph doesn't call you 'Splinter Junior' because you look like him," Donnie quipped with his trademark sarcasm. The purple-clad turtle then roughly cleared his throat before speaking again and his tone was much more serious than just moments before. "Uh, Leo . . . "

Hearing the sudden somberness in Donnie's voice, Leo looked back down at his brother just in time to see the younger turtle cover his mouth to smother a yawn.

"Yeah, Donnie?"

"If you've got anything else you want to get off of your shell, you might want to do it now, because your window of opportunity is about to close." Donnie stared up at Leo through half-mast eyes, which did not go unnoticed by his most observant sibling.

"What do you mean? Is something wrong?" The oldest turtle instantly shifted into big brother mode when he saw that his little brother could barely hold his head up anymore. The brainiac had leaned back into his pillows, undoubtedly relying on them to support his weight.

Leonardo felt a surge of panic swell inside of him. Was his brother having a relapse? Had the Healing Hands not worked?

"No, no, nothing's wrong. It's just that Raph forced me to take a heavy painkiller so I could get some sleep and it's starting to make me really groggy. Really, _really_ groggy. I'm not sure how much longer I can stay awake. You know how drowsy pain medication makes me." Then, as if to prove his own point, the genius turtle's eyes lowered to quarter-mast.

"Wait! He forced you? How?" Leo asked sharply, appalled by the mental image that his injured brother had just painted.

"Well, technically he didn't _force_ me to, but he threatened to crack the rest of my ribs if I didn't take the pills. His bedside manner certainly leaves something to be desired . . . but I'm pretty sure that's just Raph's _special_ way of showing that he cares." Donnie had hesitated for a split second before saying the word 'special,' which Leo guessed meant that his brother had to pause to find the appropriate term to describe the red-masked turtle.

The oldest turtle rolled his eyes in disgust, but opted not to comment any further on the matter, remembering that his genius brother had just gotten done telling him that he couldn't change the past.

"Then I'd better let you sleep," Leo said in a warm tone. He was about to get up to leave when Donnie grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"No . . . I – I wasn't trying to kick you out." There was a hint of despair in Donnie's expression, as though something was now troubling him. Leo was fairly certain he knew what it was.

"I promise I won't leave the lair again, if that's what you're worried about. Now, get some rest, Donnie."

"Okay," Donnie breathed out as he released his grip on Leo's arm. The exhausted turtle was just about ready to give into sleep, but there was one more thing that he needed to say before he allowed himself to pass out.

"Oh, and, Leo . . . About your, uh, suit . . . " The volume of Donnie's voice was noticeably fading and Leo could hear a slight slur in his brother's words. The debilitating side effects of the painkiller that Raph had 'given' to Donnie were definitely taking their toll on the genius turtle and it was obvious that he was soon going to lose his battle to stay awake.

"Yeah? What about it?" Leo asked, trying not to laugh at his brother's struggle to keep his eyes open.

"All that stuff you took from the garage to make it . . . Well, it better be back by morning. And I really hope that those aren't my good bungee straps," Donnie mumbled sleepily while his head sank deeper and deeper into his surplus of pillows.

A vibrant flush of crimson colored Leo's cheeks over getting caught stealing from his genius brother's supplies, but Donnie did not see it. That was because he was already fast asleep. The sound of him softly snoring was proof of that.

A warm smile stretched across Leonardo's face as he pulled his brother's blanket up higher on his plastron and smoothed the fabric over him, essentially tucking him in. It was something that Leo had not done for one of his brothers for a long, long time and he was eternally grateful that he had been given another chance to do so.

Almost losing a loved one was a painful reminder of how truly fragile life is . . .

"Goodnight, little brother. Thanks . . . for everything," Leo whispered as he gently brushed his fingertips against the top of Donnie's head. He knew that his genius brother couldn't hear him at the moment, as he was temporarily lost in oblivion, but Leo would make sure to thank his younger sibling again in the morning when he was lucid. Right after he returned the items that he had borrowed from the garage. Leonardo just hoped that he would be able to get both of those things done before his father handed down his 'suitable' punishment, because who knows what kind of shape he would be in after that.

The oldest turtle then heaved out a defeated sigh.

Master Splinter had been right. Bad decisions really did lead to bad results . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I really, really hope that you enjoyed 'To Err is Turtle.' Thanks, again, to those who suggested that I write an epilogue for 'Broken Foot.' I**_ _ **f you have any other special requests or suggestions for future one-shots, please feel free to contact me. ;)**_

 _ **As always, thank you very much for reading my stories. Please favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you like this collection of one-shots so far and want to see more. I would love to know if you are enjoying them. ;) CJ**_


	3. Together Again (Power Inside Epilogue)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'Together Again' Summary:**_ _**Mikey had watched April use that freaky crystal to save Donnie with his own two eyes, but he still needs to make sure that his big brother is really okay. *Note: this is an epilogue/one-shot for the episode 'The Power Inside Her.'**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: After watching 'The Power Inside Her,' which was hands down one of my favorite TMNT episodes ever, I found myself really wanting to better understand how the two youngest brothers felt about what had happened, so I wrote this little epilogue. Plus, poor Mikey didn't get a whole lot of airtime in the episode, so I decided to give him some quality time with his brainy big brother. Oh, and just so you know upfront, this story is told from Donnie's POV. This is my first ever first-person narrative I've posted, so I'm a little nervous . . . No flames, please.**_

 _ **Anyway, I really hope that you enjoy it.**_

 _ **If you would like to see more one-shots like this, please favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' to let me know. I would appreciate the feedback. Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Together Again**

Sleep would not come, despite the fact that just fifteen minutes ago I had been forced to turn in early for the night because I couldn't keep my eyes open, no matter how hard I tried.

I'm unable to stop myself from letting out a sigh of exasperation over my sudden onset of insomnia. I then roll over onto my shell for – Oh, I'd say about the fifth time now. I haven't actually been keeping track of how many times I've tossed and turned at this point. I've been too focused on trying to find a more comfortable position that maybe would allow me to finally get some much-needed rest. Unfortunately, my attempt to get more comfortable ends in failure, and I just wind up staring blankly at the ceiling, again. Perhaps if I start counting the water stains above me, it might lull me to sleep. Like a counting sheep sort of exercise. Of course, that's never worked for me in the past . . .

My exasperation slips out in the form of a groan this time, rather than a sigh. About two and a half seconds later, I hear a faint knock at my door, alerting me that someone must have been standing outside of my bedroom just waiting for a sign that I was still awake.

Intuition tells me that it's one of my three brothers and logic tells me which one it is.

"Yeah, Mikey?" I call out in a voice that does not sound entirely like my own. It comes out thready and raspy, revealing how exhausted I truly am. The events of the night have definitely taken their toll on me, that much is for sure. The relentless throbbing in my head is living proof of it.

While I take a brief moment to feel sorry for myself, the door to my room swings open and in walks my baby brother, just as I had suspected.

"D, can I come in?" There is obvious uncertainty in Mikey's tone as he poses his question. I notice his demeanor is far more subdued than normal. The Mikey I know is usually bouncing off the walls, but the Mikey before me is quiet, almost timid. No doubt he's still upset about what happened earlier in the evening. I guess I can't blame him. It's not every day that one of us gets their atoms strewn across half of New York City. I have to admit, I'm still feeling a little stressed out over it myself. After all, I was the one who got essentially blown to bits . . .

"Technically, you're already 'in,' Mikey, but yes. You may enter." I sit up and immediately switch on the lamp next to my bed so that my little brother doesn't trip over the items I left lying on the floor in my haste to futilely attempt to go to sleep. I then pat the spot beside me on the bed, inviting my brother to come take a seat.

I watch Mikey's expression go from nervous to elated in approximately one point two nanoseconds and I can't help but to smile. No one could ever accuse my little brother of being undemonstrative, that's for sure.

"How'd you know it was me, bro?" Mikey chirps out in a sing-song voice as he practically jumps up onto my bed, causing it to creak in protest of the sudden added weight.

"Because Leonardo always says my name while he knocks and Raph never actually knocks on the door. He pounds on it."

"Oh, right . . . "

The smile that had played on Mikey's lips starts to fade, warning me that the conversation is about to shift gears.

"Are you okay, dude? 'Cause you've been kind of quiet since, you know, the whole 'April getting possessed by that psycho alien and trying to kill you' thing."

I flinch at my brother's bluntness. He never has been one to be discreet.

'Okay' isn't exactly the word that I would use to describe my current mental or physical condition. The girl that I've been head over shell in love with from the moment I laid eyes upon her just, for all intents and purposes, tore me apart. It had all happened so fast – me 'getting turned into pixie dust, and then, magically reappearing and kissing pavement' as Mikey had so eloquently put it when my brothers were trying to describe what had occurred. I still really haven't had time to fully process how I'm feeling yet. Psychologically speaking, I think I'm still in a state of shock and basically just going through the motions of normalcy, but I'm not really sure how to explain that to my little brother without confusing him. Ultimately, I decide to go with the 'I'm fine' routine for Mikey's sake. I can see he's already worried enough as it is.

"Well, my brain kind of feels like it got run through a blender, but other than that, I'm fine. Just a little tired, is all." I keep my fingers crossed that my face doesn't reveal that I'm not being entirely truthful. Fortunately for me, my baby brother tends to be a bit on the unobservant side, so he doesn't appear to suspect a thing.

An awkward hush then falls over the room, but only for a moment. My most talkative brother isn't real big on letting hushes last for too long. Something my father has never been all that particularly fond of . . .

"So did it hurt?" Mikey pauses before continuing, making me wonder just what he's referring to by the inquiry, but then, he adds, "The whole being molecuticly scattered?"

"Molecularly scattered?"

"Yeah, that. Did it hurt?" As Mikey poses the question, he repeatedly presses the tips of his forefingers together in front of him. It's a nervous habit of his. One of many . . .

Upon my first attempt to answer Mikey's question, I feel my breath get caught in my windpipe. Naturally, I clear my throat to open the airway and I instantly notice a slight burning sensation as I do so. This is more than likely a lingering side effect from when April, or rather the being that had been controlling April, had tried to choke me. That had been a fairly disturbing experience, although not nearly as disturbing as when April had turned me into a quantum smear. I reach a hand up to gingerly rub my neck, getting lost in that awful memory for a second or two, before I finally respond to my brother's question.

"Truthfully, I don't remember much about it." The big brother part of me feels guilty for lying to my younger brother, _again_ , but the logical part of me tells me that it's technically not a lie. I only remember a fleeting moment of excruciating pain. Granted, it had been the most intense pain that I have ever felt in all of my life – like I was literally being torn apart at the seams – but a moment later, I felt nothing. I'm still struggling to make sense of it all. I guess I'm not even sure what actually caused the pain that I had temporarily endured. Having my molecules ripped apart by the vengeful Aeon spirit or having my heart ripped apart by the only girl I've ever truly cared about.

I can still hear our last conversation – just before she obliterated me – ringing in my head . . .

" _This isn't you, April! That crystal is changing you! You need to break free!"_

" _Aw! It's too much power! I – I can't control it anymore!"_

" _You can do it! I know you can!"_

" _I'm not strong enough! Donnie . . . I'm sorry."_

" _April, please! April, PLEASE!"_

I have to close my eyes for a moment so my younger brother can't see how upset I suddenly am. The memory of what April had done makes my stomach churn and I can feel every muscle in my body tense up.

Okay, maybe the pain wasn't so fleeting after all . . .

"I guess it hurt a little. But probably not as much as it hurt for you to watch, huh?" I ask Mikey, purposely trying to change the subject.

My brother vigorously nods his head in response and sinks his top teeth into his bottom lip to bite back what I assume would have been a sob, but instead comes out as a squeaky little whimper. Then, he looks up at me with those oversized blue eyes of his and I can see the tears welling up.

"I'm sorry you had see that, Mikey. I truly am." My hand instinctively pats my little brother on the knee. Well, on the kneepad to be more accurate. Mikey's reaction is to place his hand over the top of mine and squeeze for dear life, probably more for his own comfort than for mine.

My chest starts to tighten with sympathy. I can only imagine how my brothers must have felt, seeing me essentially explode into millions of miniscule pieces. I know I wouldn't have been able to handle seeing something like that happen to any of my brothers. Not without completely losing it . . .

"It was the hardest thing I've ever had to watch." By the time Mikey got to the word 'thing,' his voice trailed off into a broken whisper and his eyes were staring down at the floor.

"I know, Mikey. But I'm okay now," I assure him and force a smile.

"'You sure? There aren't still parts of you floating around the city, right? 'Cause that would be just plain creepy, dude." I'm relieved to hear my little brother's playful tone return and see his trademark smile stretch across his freckled face, brightening his features.

"I'm pretty sure April got all of me back in one piece." My voice probably didn't come across as confidently as I would have liked. Though I believe Mikey's question about my 'parts' had been strictly in jest, his query made me more than a little paranoid. Could it be possible that there were still some of my 'parts' missing? Is that why I still have a splitting headache and feel so rundown?

"So, do you blame her?" Mikey asks, pulling me out of my slightly scrambled and disconcerting thoughts.

"What?" I cough out the word, as if it had been tangible and somehow lodged in my throat.

"Do you blame April for what happened?"

This was something that I had asked myself several dozen times since April had attacked me, and every time, I had come to one conclusive answer.

"No, Mikey. That wasn't April. Not the April we know." Now my voice held the confidence that it had been missing before.

Mikey nods his head up and down again, and then, turns to look me square in the eyes. His face is suddenly difficult to read. It's a cross somewhere between guilt and tenacity.

"After what happened to you, April went all kinds of crazy, and Raph . . . well, he wanted me to take her out. He was upset about losing you and he thought that April was gone. I mean gone- gone, so I totally understood why he wanted me to do it, but I . . . I couldn't, Donnie. I just couldn't." The despair glistening in Mikey's eyes was hard to look at and I could feel my own eyes start to water. I swallow thickly before offering my response.

"It's okay, Mikey. April's like family. You didn't want to hurt her. I understand. Believe me, I do." As I had said the words, I remembered those last few moments before April had violently torn me apart. I remember trusting her right up to the very end. And despite what had happened, I still trust her, with all of my heart, just like my little brother had when she needed him most.

"It wasn't just that, Donnie. I couldn't hurt her because I knew it would've hurt you. I knew it wasn't what you would've wanted us to do."

For the time being, my voice fails me, so I instead reach over and affectionately pet the top of my little brother's bald head while giving him a smile that I hope conveys my immense pride and gratitude without the need for words.

"Oh, Donnie! I was so scared. I thought that I had lost you and that I'd never ever see you again! I . . . I don't know what I would have done if you – if you – " Now, it was Mikey's voice that quit working. Midsentence, no less.

Who'd have ever thought it possible that Hamato Michelangelo could be rendered speechless? Will wonders never cease?

"Aw, come here, buddy." I instinctively wrap my arms around my baby brother's carapace, pulling him into a tight embrace, much the same way that April had done to me after she had – well, after she had put me back together again. And just like April had put me back together again, it's now my turn to do the same for Mikey. After all, it was evident that I wasn't the only one who had been torn apart by the horrific ordeal.

"I know you were scared, Mikey, but don't worry. I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

These words make Mikey lean further into my embrace.

"Hey, you wanna sleep in my room tonight?" I feel Mikey nodding against my shoulder and hear him softly sniffling, which makes me smile once again. He then pulls out of our hug so that he can grin up at me before he eagerly lies down on my bed and rolls over onto his side, quickly making himself comfortable. I carefully lower myself down next to Mikey, trying not to elbow him in the process. My bed isn't as big as I remembered it being the last time I had allowed Mikey to sleep in my room, but I make it work. I curl up beside my younger brother and he takes this opportunity to snuggle up against me, just like he used to do when we were little. It's a rather uncomfortable position, but I'm not about to ruin the moment by asking him to move. I'm sure I'll pay for it come morning, when every inch of my body aches, but if it makes my baby brother happy, it's worth it . . .

"Donnie?" Mikey moans out my name, as if he's already starting to drift off. I can't help but to feel a slight hint of jealously over his ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"I'm glad you're back. I know you were only gone for a little while, but I missed you. I love you, big bro." He sleepily mumbles into my plastron and hums in content.

"I love you, too, little bro. Now, get some sleep."

Just as I rest my cheek against the top of my baby brother's head, I hear a fist pounding against my door and a familiar voice calmly saying my name. Seconds later, my two big brothers quietly sneak inside of my room, closing the door behind them.

Something tells me my bed is about to get a lot more crowded, which means there's no way in shell that I'm going to get any sleep tonight.

Oh well . . .

I don't mind a little sleep deprivation, so as long as we're together.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Awww! Short and sweet. I hope that you liked it. =}**_

 _ **Please favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you are enjoying these short stories. I would really love to know you like them and want me to add more to this collection. Thanks for reading. ;) CJ**_

 _ ***A special note to all of the 'Lost in the Fight' readers: I just wanted to let you know that I will still be posting the next chapter as planned. ;)**_


	4. What I See (Losing a Friend One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'What I See' Summary:**_ _**Donatello hasn't been acting like himself lately and Leonardo is bound and determined to get to the bottom of it. When Leo discovers the painful secret that Donnie's been hiding for weeks, will he be able to help mend his little brother's badly broken heart?**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Okay, I realize that not everyone celebrates Christmas, but I absolutely LOVE the holiday season and I wanted share something with all of you on this very special day. So . . . here's my latest Shell Shot. I've been working on this one for several weeks now and I will admit that it has been an extremely difficult one for me to write, as it is loosely based off something that recently happened to me in real life. For anyone that has had an online relationship/friendship that ended unexpectedly or badly, I think you will be able to relate . . .**_

 _ **If you are enjoying these one-shots, please favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' to let me know that you like them. Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **What I See**

It's not always easy being the oldest of four teenage brothers. In fact, sometimes, it's enough to drive me right out of my shell. There's a lot of added pressure that comes with being the firstborn son. I feel like it's my responsibility to watch over my three younger siblings and make sure that they're okay, but that's no simple task, believe me. I mean, I love my brothers dearly and don't mind the burden of keeping an eye on them, but they can be a real handful sometimes.

My immediate younger brother, Raphael, is the hothead of the family. He and I don't exactly see eye to eye on much of anything. I honestly think he makes a point of disagreeing with me just to irritate me. He's pigheaded, sharp-tongued, defiant, reckless, rude – Okay, I could probably go on for days with adjectives to describe Raph. Let's just say that he's difficult and leave it at that.

Now, unlike Raph, my baby brother, Michelangelo, is happy-go-lucky and carefree almost all the time. So much so that Mikey tends to not take anything seriously – including my orders. He oftentimes puts having fun before being a ninja. Don't get me wrong here. Mikey's definitely got awesome ninja skills and tons of untapped potential waiting to be discovered. I just wish that he'd put as much effort and dedication into the study of martial arts as he does into his comic books and pizza, is all.

Then, there's my second youngest brother, Donatello. He's a bona fide genius, and no, I'm not exaggerating. He can literally invent anything and do it using nothing but a pile of spare parts and junk. I don't have a clue how he does it. He's crazy talented and scary smart. He's also my most obedient and well-mannered brother by leaps and bounds. He actually listens to me, for the most part, but he can still be just as temperamental and stubborn as Raph at times. He just doesn't make a practice out of defying me just for the sake of ticking me off.

But as intelligent and respectful as Donnie is, truth be told, there are times when he's the toughest one of my brothers to deal with. Not because he's rebellious like Raph or unfocused like Mikey, but because he can be extremely reclusive and secretive. When something's bothering Donnie, he has a bad habit of shutting us out.

Kind of like he's doing right now . . .

Which leads me to my current predicament.

I'm standing here, staring at the closed doors of my genius brother's laboratory, and I can't help but to let a heavy sigh escape the confines of my throat. As soon as we had returned home from patrol tonight, Donnie had gone straight to his lab and shut himself inside, just like he had last night and the night before that and – Well, you get the idea.

Something's bothering him. I don't have to be a genius to figure that out.

These past few weeks, Donnie has been usually quiet. Yes, he's always been the quietest one of us, but this is somehow different. He's been acting a lot more distant than normal and it's starting to really worry me.

While we had been out scouring the city for any Foot or Kraang activity tonight, Donnie had barely spoken a word. When I asked him if something was wrong, he claimed that he was fine and followed with a phony-looking smile. That fake smile seemed to appease Raph and Mikey, but it hadn't worked on me. Something was definitely off and I was going to get to the bottom of it.

I knock on the lab doors a couple of times and a few moments later, I hear the faint sound of my brother's voice granting me entrance. I then slide the doors open and step through, closing them behind me. Partly because I don't want anyone disturbing our impending conversation, and partly because I want to make it harder for Donnie to get away from me if he feels so inclined to.

My brother is sitting at his desk and I approach him with long, confident strides, trying not to outwardly demonstrate the hesitation that I'm feeling inside. I have a 'fearless' reputation to uphold, after all.

"Uh, Donnie . . . Can I talk to you for a sec?" As I ask the question, I lean against the edge of my brother's desk and cross my arms over my plastron, making myself comfortable since I don't plan on leaving until I get the answers that I'm looking for. Years of dealing with my withdrawn and headstrong brother tell me that getting the answers out of him could take a while.

Always the politest of my siblings, Donnie pushes his chair a few feet away from his desk and gives me his undivided attention, looking up at me with his big, puppy dog eyes that I swear are sometimes the size of baseballs.

"Sure, Leo. Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Nothing's wrong."

Well, clearly that's not an entirely truthful statement. If I didn't think that there was something wrong, I wouldn't have gone out of my way to initiate this conversation in the first place, but Donnie doesn't need to know that. At least not yet, anyway.

"I – I just wanted to talk to you about the way you've been acting lately."

"Oh." Immediately, Donnie's right hand goes up to rub the back of his neck and his head dips down. It's obvious that his gaze is purposely avoiding mine, which is a sure sign that he's uneasy about what I just said.

Then, his words verify his unease.

"Hey, um, do you think we could talk about this another time, Leo? I mean, it's getting kind of late and I've still got a ton of work to do."

There's no question that it's getting late, but I know better than to fall for that sorry old excuse. Donnie isn't trying to get me to leave because of the time. My genius brother is well-known for spending back-to-back-to-back all-nighters in his lab when he should be asleep in his bed.

No, time is certainly not a factor here. This is just a classic case of Donnie trying to negotiate his way out of a conversation that he doesn't want to participate in. It's his clever attempt to steer clear of any potentially sensitive subject matter that may come up.

Now I know I'm not leaving this lab without answers. I can be just as stubborn as my middle brothers when I want to be.

"I think this is just as good a time as any, Donnie." My response comes out slightly colder than I had intended, but it still doesn't stop my brother from trying to argue with me. So much for him being the obedient one who actually listens to me . . .

"Seriously, Leo. Can't it at least wait until morning?"

I hear a trace of irritation in Donnie's tone, but I'm pretty sure that he's just trying to mask what he's really feeling inside, which is desperation. I can see that he's now teetering on the edge of his seat, as if he's actually considering making a break for it, but I've essentially got him cornered. The only way he's going to get out of this conversation is if he knocks me down for the count, and that isn't in my pacifistic brother's nature. Raph's, yes, but not Donnie's.

"No, Donatello, it can't wait."

The sternness of my voice and the application of my brother's full name seems to do the trick, because Donnie instantly snorts in defeat and leans his shell against the back of his chair.

Before speaking again, I soften my approach so as not to make my brother any more defensive than he already is.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this for about a week now, but every time I've tried to bring it up, you've managed to avoid me."

"That's because there's nothing to talk about, Leo. I'm fine."

As Donnie claims that he's fine for about the twentieth time tonight, he folds his arms across his chest and turns his head away rather sullenly. I notice that he starts to gnaw on the inside of his lower lip, which informs me that a lie has been told.

"Don't give me that 'I'm fine' spiel, Donnie. It's not gonna work on me. I know that something's bothering you. The past few weeks you've been – "

Now, I have to choose my words carefully here since this is Donnie that I'm talking to, and not Raph or Mikey. If it would have been Raph, I probably could've said anything that popped into my head at this point, because he would've most likely been rolling his eyes and disgusted with me no matter what I said. My immediate younger brother has always had this uncanny ability to turn everything I say into a fight. And I mean _everything_. Did I mention that Raph is difficult? Because he can seriously be a real pain in the shell.

Then, there's Mikey. Trying to communicate with my baby brother can sometimes be the equivalent of banging one's head against a brick wall over and over again. If I would've been talking with Mikey, odds were that he would've lost interest in the conversation long ago and stopped listening by now. Which meant that I could've said whatever I wanted to, because it would've fallen on deaf ear slits anyway.

Both Raph and Mikey's listening skills definitely left something to be desired. Donnie, on the other hand, never failed to listen attentively to everything that was said to him. While this is inherently a good quality, it has its negative aspects as well. Donnie can sometimes be overly perceptive and sensitive, to the point that one thoughtless remark can result in him taking things far more personally than he should.

I quickly think through the sentence that I had already started, and after a moment of deliberation, I ultimately choose to go with the word 'distracted.' Once I speak it, I wait with baited breath for Donnie's reaction. Is he going to try blowing me off again or is he going to accept his fate and finally tell me what's bugging him?

Contrary to the popular saying, silence is anything but golden.

Several awkward seconds pass before Donnie offers his response, and not surprisingly, it's void of all pleasantry.

"Fine! If you really must know, I met someone, okay?" Though he doesn't actually say the phrase 'are you happy now,' it's implied in his tone and disgusted expression.

This is not the answer that I was expecting and my shock must have shown on my face, because Donnie is quick to elaborate.

"And before you ask, _yes_ , it's a girl."

"What?" As soon as that word slips out of my mouth, I become embarrassingly aware of the fact that I used entirely too much volume and my voice came dangerously close to falsetto range. I gruffly clear my throat and try to act all nonchalant, but the evidence of me momentarily wigging out and sounding like a girl is still ringing in my ears, which means that it is most likely ringing in my brother's ears as well.

Real smooth . . .

"Online, Leo."

Donnie says my nickname in that highly exasperated way that makes it sound like 'Leo' is two separate words, putting heavy emphasis on both exceedingly long-drawn-out syllables.

I feel my body go rigid and my grip around the edge of Donnie's desk grows so tight, I'm fairly sure it's going to leave dents behind.

I really hate it when he says my name that way . . .

"And it's not like _that_. She's just a friend."

I also really hate it when my excessively insightful little brother answers my questions before I can even think to pose them. Although in this instance, I guess I don't mind so much. That's because he just answered a question that I honestly had no desire to ask.

The tension cording most of my muscles starts to relax upon hearing Donnie's confession. Here I'd thought what was troubling my genius brother was something far more significant, but now that I know it's nothing more than the result of some internet friendship that he had struck up, I feel a little silly for worrying about him so much.

I'm just about to pat myself on the shell for getting to the root of the problem in record time when I see the dejected look on my little brother's face.

Okay, maybe it isn't so insignificant after all . . .

"At least, she used to be my friend."

Once the truth comes out, it dawns on me that it's going to be one of _those_ talks. The kind that I'm so not any good at and I feel my muscles start to stiffen once again.

It's not like I have a whole lot of experience dealing with relationships. Especially not those involving girls. I mean I've lived in the sewers most of my life with a giant rat and my three equally sheltered brothers. My first ever crush on a girl was on our sworn enemy's 'daughter,' who – at the time – wanted nothing more than to kill my whole family. What advice on relationships could I possibly provide?

I suddenly find myself wishing that Donnie's problems involved something that I'm at least a little bit familiar with, like the art of Ninjutsu or perhaps feeling underappreciated by everyone. Or maybe something related to 'Space Heroes' or comic books or strategies for a mission . . . Or even how to fix the stupid toaster! In other words, I'm hoping to talk about _anything_ other than what my genius brother has just drudged up.

How selfish is that?

What's even worse, is for a moment, I actually consider suggesting that we both call it a night. If I were to walk away just when my withdrawn little brother is about to open up to me, what kind of brother would that make me?

A terrible one . . .

Plus, it's not like Donnie has better options. Who else in this family could he talk to about what's bothering him? Mikey? What wisdom could Mikey possibly have to offer as far as relationships are concerned? My youngest brother would most likely just say something to Donnie about the heart being squishy before asking him if he wanted to watch some TV instead. And Donnie certainly couldn't go to Raph about his problems. My most tactless brother would probably tell Donnie to quit his shell-aching and start calling him 'Dramatello.' Oh, and let's not forget Master Splinter. Sure, Donnie could try to talk to our father about what's been troubling him, but it's not like he would get a whole lot of sympathy out of Sensei, nor would he get any actual definitive answers out of him. Master Splinter's vague, noncommittal responses and inclination to answer questions with questions never failed to frustrate the heck out of my most detail-oriented brother.

That only left me . . .

Heaven help my poor genius brother. It's no wonder he internalizes things most of the time.

"So, uh . . . Do you wanna talk about it?"

UGH!

Of course he doesn't want to talk about it! It was only two seconds ago that he was trying like shell to weasel his way out of this conversation. I can't believe I just asked him that question. Surely, Donnie is going to fire back some snide comment.

I brace myself for the incoming wisecrack, but it doesn't come. Instead, what I get is Donnie's 'down in the dumps' voice.

"No, not really."

Growing up under the same 'roof' as my introverted brother has taught me that 'no, not really' is Donnie-speak for 'can't you see I'm trying to bottle my feelings up inside when what I really need is someone just to listen to me?' Knowing this, I try to get him to open up again.

"It might make you feel better if you did."

Oh, if that isn't one of the most cliché responses of all time, I don't know what is. The last thing that Donnie needs right now is for me to go making some incredibly corny comment.

As I mentally curse myself, my brother then does something totally out of character. Much to my surprise, he starts disclosing information without further prodding on my part.

"We met on a quantum physics chat room a couple of months ago. It was my first time on the site and I saw that someone was on there trying to debunk the concept of wave function collapse. While I have to admit, they did make some valid points in their argument, I also noticed several inaccuracies in their claims on probabilities and eigenstates. I generally avoid making any comments on sites like that, but I just couldn't resist the urge to correct a few of their more unsubstantiated theories, if only out of respect for Schrödinger."

I'm guessing that Donnie would've kept going on and on about whatever it was that he had been talking about if he hadn't looked up and seen the blank expression on my face. That vacant stare no doubt notified him that I don't know a thing about quantum physics, nor do I have a clue what the heck a wave function collapse is or an eigen-something or other. Oh, and boy am I glad that Mikey wasn't around to hear him say the word 'Schrödinger.' My baby brother would have had a field day with that one . . .

When Donnie continues to speak, it's quite obvious that he's dumbened things down for me several notches, and I'm not exactly sure if I should be grateful or insulted by the gesture.

"Well, there was this girl named Dora on the site, and when she came across my post, she must've liked what I had to say, because we wound up chatting back and forth most of the night. Then, I went back to the same site the next night and she was on there again. We started instant messaging each other and I found out that she and I had a lot of similar interests."

I have to bite my tongue in order to stop myself from sarcastically listing off the long line of Donnie's interests that I know this 'Dora' knows absolutely nothing about, such as Kraang power cells, the New York City underground sewer infrastructure, retro-mutagen, Dimension-X, or Omote gyaku. Just to name a few off the top of my head. I suppose I'm feeling a little bitter because I just found out that my brother has been keeping this 'friend' a secret for months.

"For the first several weeks after we met, we typed to each other for hours every night."

Again, I have to bite my tongue so that I don't make any scathing remarks about my brother's terrible sleeping habits. I can't help but wonder why in the heck he would tell _me_ of all turtles that he had been forgoing sleep for several weeks just so he could chat online with some girl? Especially since I'm the one who has lectured him countless times about the importance of sleep and how unhealthy it is to neglect the body's basic needs.

Donnie's voice soon snaps me out of my thoughts.

"She told me all about her family and how she planned to go to college in the fall and work on getting a degree in computer science. Obviously, when it came time to talk about my life and family, I had to leave out a few rather significant details, but I did tell her a little about you guys and April and how – "

"Wait! You told someone you just met on the internet about _April_?" Once again, my voice comes out much more screechy than I had intended it to and I feel the blood rushing to my face, which tells me that I'm most likely blushing like an idiot.

As Donnie glares up at me with narrowed eyes, it occurs to me that I have some serious trust issues. Out of all my brothers, why would I worry about Donnie doing something that could compromise our safety? This is the very same turtle who has dedicated a good portion of his waking hours into ensuring that our existence and location remain undiscovered, including installing high tech security cameras and motion sensors all around the outside of the lair. Heck, he even added a self-destruct sequence to our mobile phones, just in case they were to ever fall into the wrong hands. Donnie would never do anything to jeopardize our family. _Ever_! And he most certainly wouldn't put April in harm's way. He's had a thing for her since the first time we went up to the surface. He'd do _anything_ to protect her. I've lost track of how many times he's risked his life to save her now.

"Relax, Leo."

Again, my name is broken into the two highly exasperated words 'Lee' and 'oh,' only this time, it somehow sounds even more grating than before. It's like he's trying to say my name annoying on purpose. Here I thought Raph was the only one who deliberately tried to get under my shell . . .

"It's not like I told her about April's psychic powers or the whole half-Kraang thing. I didn't even tell her April's name. I just talked to her about – Well, I talked to her about how I felt."

"'You mean like you used to do with 'The Pulverizer?'" Before I even get halfway through that sentence, I feel regret begin to seep in. That certainly wasn't the best response I could've offered.

If looks could kill, I'd have been a goner right there and then, but a moment later, the anger is gone and Donnie's face falls into a frown.

"It wasn't like that, Leo. When I told Dora how I was feeling inside, she actually listened. I mean _really_ listened, like she genuinely wanted to hear what I had to say. I felt like I could talk to her about anything. Not just April. She always seemed to relate to what I was going through, and for the first time in a long time, I felt comfortable talking to someone about . . . you know, feelings and stuff."

Now it's Donnie's turn to blush and his cheeks start to glow as red as our hotheaded brother's mask.

I have to admit that I feel a slight twinge of jealousy flare up inside of me at the revelation that my shy and reclusive little brother has been sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with some person he's never actually met instead of coming to me. Why did he feel comfortable talking to this girl and not to his own brothers?

Then, Donnie answers my silent question without even realizing it.

"It's just that . . . sometimes I feel like none of you understand me . . . "

There's a part of me that's instantly offended by this comment, because there's an insinuation that I'm not intelligent enough to "understand" my own brother, but then, I realize that there's more to this statement than meets the eye. I choose to simply nod my head in response rather than making some snarky remark about Donnie implying that I'm too dumb to understand him.

Actually, sometimes I worry that I _am_ too dumb to understand my brilliant brother.

"It was nice to talk with someone who didn't think that I was just some hopeless nerd."

"None of us think that you're a hopeless nerd, Donnie." The words no sooner leave my lips when it dawns on me that, just yesterday, Raph had called Donnie a 'hopeless nerd' not once, but twice. I seriously need to have a talk with my most volatile brother about how his bad attitude problem is affecting our younger brothers' self-esteem. Not that talking to Raph ever does a whole lot of good . . .

I turn my head away from my second youngest brother for a moment to hide my disgust with our brother in red.

When I look over at Donnie again, I see that his shoulders are slouched and he's staring down at his kneepads through a now glassy gaze.

I'm supposed to be making him feel better here, not making him feel worse. This conversation is _so_ not going well . . .

Then Donnie adds, "It doesn't matter. It turns out she didn't care about me anyway."

Oh man! What do you even say to something like that? My brother's heart is breaking right in front of me and I literally have no idea how to respond. In a panic, I blurt out the first line that pops into my head.

"I'm sure that's not true, Donnie."

Well, at least it's not the worst thing I've said during the past few minutes . . .

"Then why did she stop responding to my messages all of a sudden? The last time we talked, things seemed perfectly fine, but the next day, she didn't reply back to the message I sent her. I didn't think anything of it at first, figuring she was busy with school or something, but when I sent her another message a few days later, she didn't respond again. A week passed by and I still hadn't heard from her, so I sent her a couple of messages asking her if everything was okay and she never even bothered to answer. Now, it's been weeks, and still, not a word. I . . . I don't understand what I did wrong."

There's no questioning that Donnie's one persistent turtle. If it were me in this situation, I would've probably given up on this girl after she neglected to answer my second message, but I'm not nearly as stubborn as my genius brother.

Well, maybe that's not true. There is the whole 'Karai' thing . . .

But I definitely don't take everything to heart the way that my genius brother does. I'm not saying that I'm insensitive like Raph or anything. I'm just not 'Donatello' sensitive.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Donnie. Maybe she just didn't get your messages. Or maybe something came up and she hasn't had a chance to get back to you."

As Donnie peers up at me, I press my lips together into what I hope is a convincing smile, but my brother's reddish-brown eyes fall back down towards his lap, telling me that my attempt to console him has failed miserably. He looks like a little kid whose birthday party just got cancelled.

"That's not it. She still posts on the site and she still chats with others, just not with me anymore."

Okay, that last bit sounds a little melodramatic, not to mention slightly cyber-stalky to me, but I let it slide and allow my brother to continue putting words to his lament.

"I keep reading back through our messages to see if I said or did something that may have pushed her away, but – "

My brother's voice almost trails off into silence by the time he gets to the word 'away' and it pains me to realize that the reason Donnie cut his sentence short is because he doesn't want me to see that he's hurting. I watch on as he wraps his arms around his midsection in an effort to comfort himself and I immediately feel a heavy pang of remorse that he doesn't seek comfort in me like he used to do when we were little. I miss those days . . .

"I'm sure you didn't _do_ anything to push her away. Sometimes people – Well, they change or they do things that we don't understand. You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over."

Unlike Raph, I opt not to add the words 'if she's gonna treat you like that, who the shell needs her' at the end of my response, but I'm not going to deny that I'm seriously tempted to.

"But I thought she cared about me. I thought – " There's a noticeable pause before Donnie restarts his sentence. "I thought I had found someone who liked me for _me_. You know? Someone that I could be myself around. Someone who didn't see me as a mutant."

"But she didn't know the _real_ you, Donnie."

"That's just it, Leo. She didn't know the real me, which means that she decided all on her own that she didn't want anything to do with me, even without knowing that I'm just some mutant freak. So it's not the fact that I'm a mutant that pushes people away. It's just me in general." My brother's tone is somehow both bitter and despairing at the same time, like he's torn between self-loathing and self-pity. What's even worse than hearing that discouraged tone in his voice, is watching Donnie's whole body slump down in utter defeat.

"Donnie, you know that's not true." I quickly try to repair the damage that I have just done by not thinking my response through. Leave it to my overly sensitive brother to take a seemingly harmless statement and twist it into something totally cruel so I come off looking like a huge jerk.

"It isn't? Because it seems pretty cut and dried to me." This time, there's no mistaking that his tone carries more despair than bitterness. He starts to chew on his bottom lip once again, but this time, I suspect that he's trying to keep it from quivering.

At this point, I can't take my little brother's suffering anymore. I swiftly move towards him and spin his chair ninety degrees so that he's facing me. I then crouch down in front of him, just low enough so we're at eye level. I notice that his immediate reaction is to lower his head even further and turn his face away from me. His eyes are now fixed on his shoulder rather than on his lap, which isn't really much of an improvement.

I reach forward and wrap my hands around Donnie's wrists. Gentle enough to show my concern, but firm enough to make escape an impossibility, just in case he's getting any ideas of attempting to flee the scene. When I speak, I make sure my voice demonstrates the conviction I'm feeling inside.

"You're not just some mutant, Donnie. You're the smartest guy I've ever known."

I see that my brother is about to say something in response, but I'm quick to stop him so I can finish the pep talk I had already started.

"And before you go jumping to any wrong conclusions, you're a lot more than just the brains of the team. You're generous, innovative, dedicated, witty, insanely talented, devoted to a fault, and as kind-hearted as anyone can get. Honestly, we'd be lost without you, Donnie. If you want me to continue telling you how amazing you are, I can keep going. It's a long list."

Donnie swallows hard enough for me to hear, and then, he slowly lifts his head and shakes it to indicate his answer is 'no.' His eyes still don't meet mine and I'm willing to bet my katanas that it's because he's trying his darnedest to not let me see his pain. The miserable look on his face tells me as much.

A part of me is furious with this 'Dora' for making my little brother feel so down on himself, but another part of me is frustrated with Donnie for letting this girl make him feel this way. While Donnie's faith in people is admirable, he's always been far too trusting and he has a nasty tendency to be easily hurt by that blind trust.

"Donnie, this girl never _really_ knew you, because if she knew what kind of turtle you truly are – the one that I know – she never would've hurt you like this. And if she can't even bother to respond to you when you've done nothing but be her friend, then she doesn't deserve you."

I feel Donnie's hands start to shake, so I slightly tighten my grip around his wrists, if only just to let him know that I'm here for him. Finally, Donnie's gaze makes its way up to mine and my stomach instantly sinks like a concrete block. His hurt is palpable and I was better off not seeing it. I hate seeing any of my brothers in pain. It always makes me feel as though I've failed them somehow.

Then, my brother's croaky voice just adds to my guilt . . .

"I honestly thought that she cared about me, Leo. But she didn't. She made that evidently clear when she started ignoring me for no apparent reason. Like we were never even friends."

Before he can even finish what he has to say, Donnie pulls his hands away from me and grinds his knuckles deep into his eye sockets, presumably trying to wipe out any trace of weakness.

"This isn't your fault, Donnie. I know it's hard to accept, but there's nothing more you can do. She made her choice, regardless of anything you did, and as much as it hurts, you're gonna have to accept that. You can't force someone to like you, no matter how much you care about them. The only way to get past this, is for you to let her go."

About a half a second after uttering that last word, I realize what a terrible mistake I've just made. Surely, my most perceptive brother is going to see the correlation between what I said and his relationship with April. He's going to think that I'm suggesting he might as well give up on her, too.

Ahhhh! I could kick myself for being so inconsiderate. What I had just said was almost as cruel as when Raph had flat-out told Donnie that he had no shot with April.

I open my 'big' mouth to offer an explanation – or maybe even an apology of sorts – when Donnie suddenly lunges forward and throws his arms around my carapace, nearly knocking me over in the process.

Shocked by what has just happened, I wordlessly stare down at my brother. His face is buried in my chest and he's clinging to me as if his life depended on how steadfast his grip was. I'm not even sure how to react to Donnie's unexpected display of affection. Truthfully, I can't remember how long it's been since my most reserved brother out-and-out hugged me like this and the realization pains me.

So much has changed between us these past few years.

Too much . . .

A little voice inside of my head then starts screaming at me for not responding to my brother's embrace. Donnie hasn't reached out to me like this in forever, and here I am, just staring at him.

 _HELLO! DO SOMETHING, LEO!_

Without any further hesitation, I hook my arms around Donnie and pull him closer to me, patting his shell soothingly as I do. I then manage to find my voice again.

"It's gonna be okay, Donnie. You still have us, and you always will. We're here for you, whenever you need us. Besides, I'm sure you'll make new friends."

"I don't wanna make new friends, because it'll just happen again," Donnie mumbles into the scutes of my plastron.

This statement bothers me. I mean really, _really_ bothers me. My genius brother rarely gives up on anything. Not even on things that seem to be a lost cause (i.e. 'The Pulverizer'). And he _never_ gives up on the people that he cares about. Not ever. My genius brother is as loyal as the Shredder is vengeful. To hear Donnie giving up on something, just like that, fills my heart with sorrow.

I gently untangle myself from Donnie's hold and grab onto his upper arms. I then give them a firm squeeze, hoping to convey the importance of what I'm about to say.

"The Hamato Donatello I know has never been one to quit. Not on anyone or anything. Donnie, you can't let one bad experience stop you from getting back out there."

Once again, Donnie shifts his gaze away from mine, almost as though he's desperate to fix his eyes on anything but me.

"I – I can't, Leo. I don't want to go through this all over again. I know that I didn't know Dora all that long, but I really did care about her. And when she told me that she cared about me, I was stupid enough to trust her."

At this point, I'm cursing myself for allowing my brother to go through this heartache alone for so long. How many days and nights had Donnie locked himself up inside of his lab, trying to singlehandedly deal with these emotions that I'm just now seeing? How could I not have confronted him about this sooner?

I make a quick mental note to keep a closer eye on my genius brother from now on, because I obviously can't trust him to voluntarily come to me with his problems . . .

"Trusting someone doesn't make you stupid, Donnie. It makes you a good person. She's the stupid one. Stupid for not seeing how amazing you are. Like I said before, she didn't see the real you, Donnie, but I do. And anyone who has ever gotten the chance to see what I see would never let you go."

Okay, that has got to be hands down the lamest thing I've ever said, but I actually meant every word of it. I'm just glad that Raph wasn't around to hear me say it. He'd never let me live that one down.

Donnie starts to shyly twist a forefinger into one of his kneepads as he mutters, "You're just saying that because you're my brother, Leo. You have to say stuff like that."

"No, I don't _have_ to say anything. I'm saying it because it's true. This Dora . . . she doesn't know what she lost out on. I wish that she could've seen you for you. You really are incredible, Donnie. You're constantly saving our shells. And how many times have you saved the city of New York now? Because I've lost count."

I flash Donnie a sly grin and notice his mouth twitches up with the ghost of a smile.

"I know she hurt you, Donnie, but that doesn't mean you should lose faith in people. Remember when you first tried to make retro-mutagen for April's dad? When it didn't work right away, you didn't give up. You kept on trying. Well, you can't give up on people just because one friendship failed. You have to keep trying. Come on, Donnie. You must have other friends out there that you correspond with. You can't just do the same thing to them as Dora did to you."

Donnie looks up at me and I see that telltale glint in his eyes. The one that lets me know he's excited about something. The one that I haven't seen for weeks now . . .

"Well, there is this girl named Jojo that I've chatted with several times. She's super smart and her theories on existentialism are remarkably insightful and thought-provoking. That and she's an expert on Einstein's doctoral dissertation on molecular dimensions. She can pretty much quote the thesis word for word. Plus, she has a really good sense of humor and she seems really nice," Donnie says, and then, his lips curl into a sheepish smile that oh-so-slightly reveals the gap in his upper teeth.

"You see! There you go! You don't want to stop being friends with Jojo just because one person couldn't see what a great guy you are, do you? That wouldn't be fair to the rest of the world, Donnie."

I worry that my voice held a little too much enthusiasm to sound authentic, but Donnie doesn't appear to mind.

"I guess you're right."

While my brother responds, the gleam in his eyes seems to glow even brighter, but I can also see the weariness they hold. The sleepless nights are visibly catching up to him. Then, as if on cue, his hand flies up to his mouth to attempt to muffle a yawn that slips out.

"It's late, Donnie. You should get some rest."

"Yeah, I am pretty tired. I'll just be a minute. I have to shut everything down before I call it a night."

Normally, I trust my genius brother with my life, but not when it comes to him telling me that he's going to go to bed. Donnie is notorious for claiming that he's going to 'call it a night,' and then, he somehow forgets to actually do so. I'm not sure whether or not it's intentional, but either way, I'm not about allow it to happen again.

"Why don't you let me take care of that stuff? You look like you need sleep a lot more than I do. I promise I won't screw anything up."

"But – "

Donnie only manages to get out that single word before I nip his objection in the bud.

"No buts, Donatello. I can handle this. You. Bed. Now." Though my voice is soft and low, there is still enough firmness in my tone to make it crystal-clear that my mind is made up on the matter. Fortunately for me, Donnie, being the genius that he is, recognizes that it would be a waste of breath arguing with me when I use this tone. Now, had it been Raph I was talking to, I would have gotten an ear slit full for being a pain in the shell and a major nag.

Raph is difficult. I know I've already said that a couple of times, but it bears repeating.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Goodnight, Leo," Donnie groans as he pushes himself up to his feet. The way that he gingerly rises up off his chair tells me that he's spent entirely too many long days and nights hunched over his desk, which serves as further confirmation that I'm doing the right thing by kicking him out of his own lab.

"Goodnight, Donnie."

Once my 'goodnight' is said, my brother starts to trudge away from me and I settle down into his vacated seat to shut down his computer for the night.

Just as Donnie's about to reach the lab doors, he stops his momentum and turns to look at me one last time. I'm guessing he's having second thoughts about leaving his precious lab in my 'capable' hands.

"Leo?"

"Yeah, Donnie?"

When I look over at my brother, I see a warm expression spread across his face. It's a welcome improvement over the gloomy expression he's been wearing these past few weeks.

"Thanks for listening . . . and for being a great brother. You're pretty amazing yourself, you know?" With that said, Donnie turns and exits on silent feet.

As I watch my brother disappear from view, I couldn't help but to smile to myself.

Maybe being the oldest brother isn't such a burden after all. Maybe it's more of a privilege. A privilege I should always be grateful for.

Even if Raph is difficult . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I really hope that you enjoyed this story. Honestly, out of all the stories that I've ever written, this really was the most heartbreaking one for me to put into words. It's hard to lose someone you care about, even if you've never actually met them face-to-face.**_

 _ **I would like to dedicate this story to my amazing friend, Joanne N. Grey, who helped me get through losing 'Dora' and taught me how to trust again, just like Leo did for Donnie. Thank you, Jojo! You're the best!**_

 _ **Once again, please take a moment to favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you like this collection of short stories. I would really love to know if you have enjoyed them so far and if you want me to continue adding more.**_

 _ **One more thing . . . Whether you celebrate the holiday or not, I wish you all a wonderful day and the happiest of new years. I am so grateful for each and every one of you and for the amazing friends that I have made here on FanFiction, as well as on Tumblr and Wattpad. Your kindness is truly one of the greatest gifts that I could ever ask to receive. I am so very blessed. Thank you, a million times over, and then some. *hugs***_

 _ **Now, it's time to curl up in front of the fireplace with a big old cup of piping hot cocoa (loaded with extra marshmallows, of course =D) and read Captain Vegeta's 'What is Santa Claus' again! Thanks for the awesome Christmas present, CV! Life is good. :} CJ**_


	5. Torn Apart (Power Inside Her Epilogue)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'Torn Apart' Summary:**_ _**Donnie may have forgiven April for everything that had happened, but Raph isn't finding it quite so easy to just forgive and forget.**_

 _ ***Special Notes: This is an A Team oriented epilogue for the episode 'The Power Inside Her.' It's a companion piece to my one-shot 'Together Again,' which is chapter 3 of 'TMNT Shell Shots.' Just so you know, you don't need to read 'Together Again' prior to reading 'Torn Apart,' but the two stories do tie into one another.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I've had a few reviewers request that I write an epilogue for 'The Power Inside Her' that delves deeper into Leo and Raph's feelings about what happened during that episode. I also had a reviewer request that I write a story from the hotheaded turtle's POV. So, I combined the two requests and turned them into this Shell Shot. I hope everyone likes it.**_

 _ **As always, please take a moment to favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you like these short stories. I would love to know. Thanks for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Torn Apart**

I just can't get the image out of my head. The image of my brainiac brother being – Aw, shell I don't even know what actually happened to him. Something about his molecules getting scattered all over the place. All I know for sure is that it's one of the most horrible things I've ever had to watch in all my life. I thought I lost my brother tonight, and even though he seems to be okay now, I'm still not sure if I am.

What's really irking me about the whole thing is that everyone else is acting all happy-go-lucky, like everything's perfectly fine again, when it's not. Not as far as I'm concerned.

April just about killed my little brother. Heck, for a while there, we all thought Donnie was gone for good.

How exactly is that fine?

And as if tearing my genius brother into millions of pieces wasn't bad enough, then April went and tried to rip me apart, too. Right after she tried to crumple me up like I was a freaking piece of paper.

Yeah, everything's perfectly fine, my shell . . .

Just as I'm about to slam my fist down into my mattress for about the twentieth time now, I hear a faint knock at my door.

Aw, crud.

I'm really not feeling up for company right now, but odds are whoever's on the opposite side of my door isn't going to go away, even if I tell them to. That's just the way my family is. They can never take 'get lost' for an answer. What's worse, is then they go and make me out to be a jerk for being mean.

I'm _always_ the bad guy.

Another knock sounds out, only this time a voice follows.

"Raph?"

Just my rotten luck. Of course it's Leo.

Somebody up there definitely hates me.

Biting back a growl, I push myself up so I'm sitting on the edge of my bed. This hurts way more than anticipated and I have to grit my teeth for a moment or two before groaning, "It's open."

I flick my eyes towards the door just long enough to see my older brother enter the room, and then, I stare down at the floor for no particular reason. Maybe it's because I just feel like sulking, or maybe it's because I'm not in the mood to put up with another one of Leo's self-righteous lectures.

"Hey, Raph. Can I talk to you for a sec?"

My older brother is normally oozing with overconfidence. It's one of the many things that aggravates me about him, but right now, it almost seems like he's nervous. No doubt that's got something to do with the events of the night.

Go figure.

I lift my head up and simply stare at Leo. There's no point in answering him, because he's going to say whatever it is he wants to get off his plastron, whether I give him permission to or not. Like I said, my family can never take 'get lost' for an answer. Lame-O-nardo especially.

"How're you doing?" As Leo asks the question, I watch him look me up and down like he already doesn't trust whatever I'm about to say, so he has to check me over himself.

Stupid Leo!

A part of me really wants to tell my brother to go stuff it in his shell and mind his own business, but that seems rather harsh, even for me. I guess I'm just in a bad mood because of the April/Za-Naron thing. I should probably cut Leo some slack. He's just worried about me because that's what Leo does. He worries . . . about _everything_. I don't think he's actually trying to be a pill. At least, I'm pretty sure he's not. It's hard to say with him.

Leo's a real dork, you know that?

I mean this _is_ the guy who once called us the 'Mighty Mutants.' Oh, and let's not forget the 'Turtles of Justice' comment. Now that was embarrassing . . .

"Eh, I've had worse beatings. I'll be fine. It's nothing a decent night's sleep won't fix. Shouldn't you be checking up on Donnie instead of bugging me?" Okay, I still came off a bit harsh, but not nearly as harsh as I could've been. That has to count for something, right?

Leo's face scrunches up like a raisin for a couple of seconds before he responds.

"I sent Mikey to check on Donnie while I checked on you."

I have to wonder who got the short end of the stick here: me or Donnie boy. Tough call, but my money's on me. Sure, Mikey can be annoying sometimes. Like _really_ annoying, but Leo can be about as irritating as getting a handful of shurikens crammed down your shell.

"Well, you checked on me. Your work's done."

"Nice try, Raph. Do you think I haven't noticed that something's bothering you?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be you." Yes, I'm well aware that was a rude answer, but hey, no one's ever accused me of being the nice one.

Unfortunately, no one's ever accused Leo of being the one to give up.

"After Donnie went to bed, it was like you couldn't leave the room fast enough. What was that all about?"

I'm half-tempted to deny the accusation, but what's there to deny? When Donnie got up and went to bed, I waited all of a minute to head to my own room. I should've known it would get Leo's mask in a twist.

"Nothing. I told you I was tired."

As soon as I make that claim, I can see my big brother isn't buying it, just like I hadn't bought it when Donnie had told me almost the same thing earlier . . .

" _I, uh, think I'm gonna call it a night."_

" _You okay, Donnie?"_

" _Yeah, I'm just really tired."_

" _You sure?"_

" _Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure."_

I might've believed that load of bull if I hadn't seen the way Donnie kept looking at April. Especially after she had used her powers to summon her tanto. It was like he was terrified of her after that. I'm sure he would've never openly admitted to being scared, but I could see the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense up every time she moved a finger. I can't blame him for being paranoid. I know how bad she hurt him. Not just physically, but mentally, too.

For once in my life, I think I'm the only one in the family who truly understands what my brainy brother is feeling inside.

I remember how awful it felt when I found out that Mona had betrayed my trust. It was like someone had ripped my heart right out of my chest and stabbed it with thousands of kunai, and then, stomped on it until there was nothing left. I imagine Donnie must've felt something similar when April betrayed him. That had to hurt. Probably even more than getting turned into a "quantum smear," as the brainiac had so nerdily put it.

I can feel anger start to burn in the pit of my gut again, like a bad case of indigestion. Even though I hadn't actually seen the look on my little brother's face when April attacked him, I can just picture it. I bet he gave her the big, puppy dog eyes and the sadorable "why are you doing this" expression. After all, Donnie's been in love with April from the moment he first saw her. I'm sure he trusted her right up until she tore him apart . . . literally.

Just that thought causes me to snort in disgust. Something that Leo instantly picks up on.

"Spill it, Raph."

"There's nothing to spill, Fearless!"

"Oh yeah? Then why do you look like you're about ready to punch something?"

I look down to see my hands are balled into white-knuckled fists. I didn't even realize that I was doing anything with my hands. Apparently, I'm holding more of a grudge than I had initially thought. Either that, or whatever it is that makes my brain tick secretly wants me to hit Leo in the face.

Not a bad idea . . .

"I don't wanna talk about it, Leo! Why don't you go play mother hen with Donnie instead? He needs it more. I've got stuff to do."

With that said, Leo struts up to me like he's got a stick up his –

"But I thought you were tired."

"I was, until you came in here and started ticking me off! Besides, I don't have to explain myself to you!"

"What's there to explain, Raph? You said there was nothing wrong?"

Arghhh! I hate it when Leo pulls that reverse psychology crap on me, but not nearly as much as much as I hate the smug look that's now stretched across his face. There's nothing more I'd like to do than smack that pompous smirk off him, but the last time I tried something like that, Master Splinter practically paralyzed me with one of those pressure point moves of his. The kind that turns you into a puddle of fricking Jello. Still, I have to ask myself whether or not getting turned into a quivering pile of goo is worth the temporary satisfaction of sucker-punching Leo.

Okay, maybe my family is right. Maybe I really do need anger management . . .

"Fine! You want me to talk, I'll talk. What do you want me to say?"

"I just want you to tell me why you were in such a hurry to leave after Donnie left. Was it because you were worried about Donnie, or was it something more?"

"Does it matter?"

That's kind of a pointless thing to ask. Obviously it matters to him if he already asked the question, doofus!

"It was because you didn't want to be around April, wasn't it?"

I'm sure the look on my face is answer enough to that.

"It wasn't her fault, Raph."

That's almost the exact same thing my older brother said to April after she had finally taken out Za-Naron or whoever it was. Back when Leo had actually comforted her because she was feeling bad for "destroying" (her word, not mine) our little brother.

" _It's not your fault, April."_

It was hard to swallow those words then, and it's still hard to swallow them now.

"How can you say that, Leo?"

"It wasn't her, Raph. It was that crystal. You _know_ that."

"Do I? She had every chance to get rid of that crystal, but she didn't, even after we told her it was bad news. April chose that crystal over us!"

"Raph – "

"Don't 'Raph' me, Fearless! You saw what she did to Donnie! I can accept that she tried to take me out, but Donnie! He cares about her more than anything! How could she do that to _him_?"

I assume that Leo's about to continue trying to convince me that it wasn't April's fault, but instead, he turns unusually quiet. His sudden silence reminds me of his reaction after April had "cleansed" (again, her word, not mine) Donnie. It's something I'll never forget.

Once April/Za-Naron had knocked – or rather zapped – me, Leo, and Mikey down to the rooftop of the Channel Six building (which hurt like shell, by the way), I got to my feet and stared up at the sky as the rain came pouring down, but April was already gone. Just like that, she left. She didn't even have the decency to finish us off after blowing up my little brother. She just left us there to grieve.

I remember exactly what I said at that point and I remember Leo's response all too well.

" _She's gone. What do we do, Leo? What just happened? Is Donnie . . . gone?"_

 _*sigh*_

All Leo did was sigh. That's it. No words of direction. No words of wisdom. No words of encouragement. No words of hope. No words at all. Just that damn sigh.

As I stood there waiting for my bossy, know-it-all brother to tell us what to do, like he always does, he just sat there on his knees, clinging to Donnie's fallen mask. The look on Leo's face as he wordlessly stared down at our brother's mask told me everything I didn't want to know.

After that, I wasn't sure what to do or what to feel. I still don't . . .

Leo unexpectedly sitting down next to me on my bed snaps me out of my funk. Of course, my initial reaction to his invasion of my personal space is to get defensive, but I somehow find the self-restraint necessary to stop myself from instinctively shoving him to the floor and asking him what the shell he thinks he's doing.

 _Like a river over stone . . ._

I suck down a couple of deep breaths to try to take the edge off, just like Master Splinter taught me to do whenever I feel myself getting all bent out of shape.

"You're not the only who's hurting, Raph. We all thought we lost him."

Those words make my breath get stuck in my throat. I stare down at my hands again to see that they're now shaking against my will. In the meantime, Leo keeps on talking.

"When we were up on that tower and I thought that April had – " When Leo pauses for a moment, I lift my head back up and I can see the obvious pain in his in his eyes.

"I didn't know what to do. One second, Donnie was there, and the next, he was – "

Again, Leo pauses, unable to bring himself to say the word that none of us have been able to actually utter since it happened.

Dead.

Not 'destroyed.' Not 'gone.' Not 'molecularly scattered.' Not 'turned into pixie dust.' Not 'quantumly smeared.'

 _DEAD_!

We thought our brother was dead!

Worst. Feeling. Ever.

And now that I'm sitting here staring at the broken look on Leo's face, I realize that he's still just as devastated by what happened to Donnie as I am, and for some reason, that makes me feel a little better. It probably shouldn't, but it does. I can't really explain it, since I'm about as good at explaining my feelings as Mikey is at keeping his big mouth shut.

Leo's unusually quiet voice cuts through my thoughts again, and for once, I'm happy he's the one doing the talking.

"All I kept thinking was this can't be real. I just kept telling myself, over and over again, that it hadn't really happened. That I hadn't just lost my brother . . . That thought was too much to bear, and so I . . . I just sort of went numb. Almost like I put myself on autopilot and just went through the motions. I know, as leader, I should've dealt with the situation better, but – "

Another pause.

This time, I complete the unfinished sentence for him.

"But you didn't know how to deal with something like _that_."

'That' becomes yet another word to serve as a less painful substitute for saying something along the lines of 'dead' or 'death.' Obviously, I'm just as afraid to say those two dreaded words out loud as the rest of my family is.

Leo simply nods his head in response, clearly struggling to speak.

"I didn't know how to deal with it either, Leo. I still don't. I can't stop thinking about it. I . . . I thought we'd never see him again."

I notice my voice is starting to crack, so I stop to clear my throat. Leo takes this opportunity to put his two cents in.

"I know. Believe me, I know."

An awkward silence then falls over the room as we both stare off in different directions. My mind starts to wonder if Leo is looking away for the same reason that I am. Is he trying to hide the pain, too?

After a full minute passes, I can't take the silence anymore, so I decide to break it. My voice doesn't crack this time, but it comes out way weaker and needier than I prefer.

"So what now?"

"Now, we move on."

"It's not that easy, Leo. I can't just paint on some phony smile and act like nothing happened." As I say those words, I can't help but to look down at the many contusions covering my body. It'll be kind of hard to forget what happened so long as my bruises have bruises. Sure, the marks will eventually fade away, as will the anger, but there are some scars that won't heal.

I'm never going to completely forget . . .

"No one expects you to, Raph," Leo says like he just read my mind, but I quickly realize that he's responding to what I said, not what I thought.

If Leo could actually read my mind, he would've stopped speaking to me years ago.

"What happened tonight isn't something that we can just instantly bounce back from. It's gonna take time for us to get past this and we'll all need to help each other through." Leo draws in a deep breath before he says, "Including April. She's hurting, too, you know?"

I open my mouth to respond, but blow out a lungful of air instead. I'm not even sure what to say to that. I don't _want_ to blame April. I really don't, but I can still see her tearing my brainiac brother apart. I can still see her attacking us without a single shred of remorse.

"I know it's hard, Raph, but you have to remind yourself that it wasn't April. It was Za-Naron. April wasn't herself. That crystal was controlling her. Kind of like when Master Splinter was under the control of the Rat King, or – "

Leo hesitates again and I look up just in time to see his lips curl into a devious smirk.

"Or when _you_ were under the control of Shredder's Brain Worm."

Aw, sewer apples! Why'd he have to go and drudge that up again? And how the heck am I supposed to argue my way around that?

I notice Leo's smirk grows even wider when he realizes that he's got me beat. He looks to be quite pleased with himself, and not surprisingly, he just can't resist the temptation to rub additional salt into my wounded ego.

"None of us blamed you when you tried to kill us. Don't you think you owe April the same courtesy?"

I roll my eyes towards the ceiling before snarling out, "I really hate it when you're right."

"You have to admit, that _was_ good." The usual arrogance that had been missing from my older brother's voice is now back in full force and I immediately find myself wishing it would go away again.

"Yeah, yeah. Nice one, chief."

Leo then leans closer to me and drapes an arm loosely over my shoulders. It's a little awkward, but I go along with it for the time being. I just hope that Mikey doesn't walk by my room and see it, or he'll make a big stink about it.

"We're gonna be okay, Raph. Donnie's still with us. That's the most important thing."

When I think about how close we came to losing our brother tonight, I feel a lump form in my throat and I swear it's the size of Chinatown. After about three or four tries, I finally manage to swallow the knot down so I can take a decent breath of air again.

Leo must've noticed my discomfort, because all of a sudden, I feel him squeezing my shoulder, which is just plain weird.

Okay, this scene is getting entirely too sappy for me to stomach. If Leo keeps acting the way he is right now, I'm pretty sure I'm going to hurl, and I can personally guarantee I won't be the one cleaning it up.

I jerk my shoulders up and down, effectively shrugging Leo's arm off me. A second later, I see a slight flush of red streak across his cheeks, telling me that he's embarrassed.

Now it's my turn to smirk, but Leo doesn't see it. He's too busy gazing out into the hall that connects all of our rooms.

"So . . . how do you think Donnie's holding up? It's awfully quiet out there." Leo's voice is stripped of confidence again, revealing his concern for our little brother.

"Yeah. Maybe we should – " I stop in the middle of my sentence, worried that what I'm about to say is going to sound too mushy, but I decide to say it anyway. "Maybe we should go check on him. You know, just to make sure that Mikey isn't driving him totally crazy."

Leo gives me a knowing smile and nods, but he chooses not to comment. That's because he knows all too well that if he makes any kind of snide remark about what I just said, I'll slap him upside the head.

I watch Leo push himself up off the bed and head straight for Donnie's room. My injuries slow me down slightly, but I'm still fairly quick to follow my brother.

As I approach Donnie's bedroom door, I hear the sound of my two younger siblings talking to one another, indicating that they're both still awake.

Leo lifts his hand up and gently raps his knuckles against our genius brother's door, like he's afraid he's going to break it or something. After only a couple of knocks, Fearless says Donnie's name so quietly, there's no way in shell the Brainiac can hear it on the other side of the door.

I decide to show my older brother how to properly knock on a door. I crack my neck a few times before swiftly elbowing Leo out of the way. I then raise my fist and pound it into the door at least a dozen times, making sure to bang good and loud so both Donnie and Mikey can easily hear it.

Leo narrows his eyes and glares at me while saying Donnie's name one more time, noticeably louder than before. Then, he pushes the door open and we silently slip inside of the bedroom, although I'm not sure why we have to be so quiet. It's not like either of our younger brothers are sleeping. Especially not after I just tried to beat the door down.

Once inside of Donnie's room, I see that my two baby brothers are curled up together on the bed and even I can't help but to smile at the sight. I have to admit, it's kind of cute, in a lame, dorky sort of way. As much as my two little brothers may annoy me sometimes, they're still the best little brothers a turtle could ask for. Leo's not so bad, either. Not that I'd ever say any of that stuff to their faces.

When I look closer at my younger brothers, I can see that Mikey already appears to be half-asleep, but Donnie's eyes are wide open. He peers up at me and Leo and his mouth curves up into a smile. That must've been just the invitation that Leo had been waiting for, because despite the fact that Donnie's bed already looks way overcrowded, Fearless eagerly climbs up onto the mattress and wedges himself in between the wall and our brainiac brother.

I stare down at my three brothers now squished together on the bed. Not one of them looks to be in a remotely comfortable position, but they don't seem to mind.

For a moment, I just stand there, debating on my next move. It doesn't look like there's any more room on that bed for me, even if I wanted to join in on my brother's turtle pile, which essentially makes my mind up for me. I decide to sit next to the bed, just until they fall asleep.

I'm about to pull up a chair when I notice Donnie's big, brown eyes gazing up at me. Suddenly, I'm reminded of the words I had spoken to April as she tried to tear me apart. The ones that had finally managed to get through to her . . .

 _Remember Donnie._

Upon hearing those two words repeat in my head, I stare down at my brothers again and sigh.

I guess I could squeeze in at the foot of the bed. I've slept in tighter spots before. Besides, it's just for one night. I'm sure it won't be too bad, so long as I'm with my brothers.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Awww, Raph is just a big old softie at heart. I love him so much. I just want to hug him! \\(*U*)/**_

 _ **I would like to thank Longing for Leo, Guest 00, and DonniesMouse for their story suggestions/requests. I really hope that you all like how it turned out. =}**_

 _ **Once again, please take a moment to favorite/follow/review 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you are enjoying this collection of short stories. Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ**_


	6. Under the Skin (Deadly Venom One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'Under the Skin' Summary:**_ _**This story takes place shortly after the episode 'The Deadly Venom.'**_ ** _After their near-fatal encounter with Karai, the family goes to bed thinking that the Healing Hands technique has successfully cured everyone, but they are wrong._**

 _ ***Author's Notes: Here's my latest 'TMNT Shell Shot' titled 'Under the Skin.' Thank you so much to my wonderful friend, HyunaLeo96, for requesting that I write a story based off that episode. I hope everyone likes what I came up with.**_

 _ **Thanks to all of you who have taken the time to read, favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on any of my 'TMNT Shell Shots.' I truly appreciate your kindness and support. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Under the Skin**

The shrill sound of the flatline ringing in his ear slits made it nearly impossible for him to think straight.

For ten minutes it had been going off.

Ten minutes had passed and still no response.

His brain kept telling him it had been too long, yet still, he continued to heave his hands up and down. His breath came out in time with his compressions. Her breath didn't come out at all. Even after ten minutes of CPR.

Ten minutes turned into eleven, then twelve . . . Still, he kept thrusting his hands down into her lifeless chest.

"Donnie."

He heard the sound of his oldest brother's dejected voice, but it did not slow his momentum. He blew two more deep breaths of air into her lungs and went right back to chest compressions.

"Donnie, please."

He felt the surprisingly gentle tug on his shoulder from his immediate older brother, but again, he did not allow it to slow his momentum.

"Donnie, stop! Please!"

He couldn't see the tears brewing in his younger sibling's eyes, but he knew they were there. He could hear the hurt in his baby brother's pleas for him to stop, but just kept right on pushing.

"Donatello."

He recognized the firm yet soothing tone in his sensei's voice. He knew that his father would not be as easily dissuaded as his brothers.

But he wasn't about to quit. Even if his father wanted him to.

He would not give up on her.

 _Not ever._

"She is gone, my son. It is time to let her go."

 _No. No! NO!_

He felt two strong pairs of hands forcefully and somehow compassionately pull him away from the body. Despite his best efforts to fight them off, he could not overpower his older brothers. The adrenalin that had been coursing through his veins was starting to wear off, leaving him defenseless in their grasp. He let out a pitiful sob of anguish when reality settled over him like a two-ton slab of concrete.

They had lost her. _He_ had lost her . . .

Someone switched off the heart monitor, putting an end to the awful blare of the flatline, but he didn't look up to see who had done it. His eyes never left hers, even though they were closed, just as they had been since her father had brought her to the lair.

 _Her father . . ._

Hamato Donatello slowly lifted his head up for the first time since the flatline had sounded out and revealed the agony residing in his reddish-brown eyes. Fat, sloppy tears ran past his mask and stained his pallid cheeks as he stared across the table at the man looking back at him with dawning horror.

"I . . . I am so sorry."

For a moment, the only response was silence. In fact, the room fell so deafeningly quiet, all Donatello could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat thumping inside of his chest, which only served as a painful reminder that hers was no longer beating.

She was gone . . .

His brothers must have felt his muscles slacken in defeat, because they unexpectedly released their staunch grip on his arms. Once he was freed, he took several clumsy steps forward to return to her side. He stared down at her eyes again and his throat tightened with the newfound realization that those beautiful eyes would never open again.

Raising a shaky hand, he reached out and traced his fingertips down the side of her face. The skin was still warm to the touch, momentarily offering him a false sense of hope, but the bluish-purple tint that her once pink lips had adopted soon crushed any optimism he was still clinging to.

As his world came toppling down around him, he suddenly felt the sting of someone slapping his hand away from her face. Instinctively retracting his arm and cradling it against his plastron, he looked up to see seething blue eyes trying to burn holes right through him.

"Don't you touch her!"

There was pure malice in those words, as if they were being spoken to most despicable being on Earth. Was that how he now saw him?

"Mr. O'Neil, I . . . I know you – "

"You told me I did the right thing by bringing her here! I trusted you! I thought you could help her! I could've brought her to a hospital! They could've saved her! Now she's gone and it's all your fault!"

"But I – I did everything I could, Mr. O'Neil. I swear to you, if there was anything more I could've done to save her– " The sentence stopped cold. His voice gave out on him before he could finish it.

The remainder of what he had tried to say screamed out in his head.

"– _I would've done it. I would give my life for her."_

Donatello's mouth fell open, a silent apology trapped on the tip of his tongue.

 _But you didn't save her, did you?_

 _It's all your fault._

 _All. Your. Fault._

 _YOUR FAULT!_

"You let her die! I trusted you and you let my little girl die!" A long, boney finger was thrust towards him and it pierced his heart like an arrow. A feeling of nausea began to fester in his gut.

"N – No! That's not true!"

Covering his ear slits in a vain attempt to block out the hurtful comments, Donatello looked to his family for support, only to see that their stares were just as accusing as Mr. O'Neil's had been.

"You . . . You all know that I did everything I could. I did my best! You know that, right?" The desperation in his voice was clear, but _their_ voices held no sympathy.

"Ha! You couldn't save April, just like you couldn't change Karai back."

"L – Leo? How could you say that?"

"Dude, why wouldn't he? You're always trying to save people, brah, but you never can. Who's the one who came up with a way to produce all that retro mutagen to save the people of New York? This guy! You're s'posed to be the smart one, but I had to do it for you!"

"Wh – What?"

"Face it, Donnie. Mikey and Fearless are right. Lately, all you do is mess things up. And if you can't fix stuff, what the heck are you good for?"

Breathing heavily now, Donatello's eyes darted from brother to brother to brother until they landed on his father's blank gaze. It was as though Master Splinter's face was made of stone, unfaltering and illegible.

"Sensei? Please, say something."

The seconds that passed before Master Splinter responded felt more like hours to the genius turtle. He looked at his father with an expression that begged for absolution. What he got was quite the contrary.

"I am afraid that your brothers are correct, Donatello. If not for Michelangelo, the entire city would still be imprisoned by the Kraang. You have failed in your continued efforts to create a cure for Miwa, and now, you are responsible for April's death. You have let us all down, my son."

Shaking his head from side to side, Donatello backed away from his family as if they were suddenly total strangers to him.

How could they be so cruel?

Then, each one of them held up a hand and pointed a finger at him, just as Mr. O'Neil had done.

"It's your fault!"

"N – No."

"This is _all_ your fault!"

"No! Stop it!"

"April is _dead_ because of you!"

"No!"

"Your fault!"

"NO!"

The last 'no' ripped out of his throat as a broken scream of pain as Donatello dropped down to his knees. He then rolled over onto his side and tried to draw himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around his waist as his whole body began to shake uncontrollably. The fall to his knees had hurt way more than it should have. It hurt everywhere.

He didn't understand.

Why was he suddenly in so much excruciating pain?

* * *

Leonardo awoke to the sound of a blood-curdling scream, and then, there was a sickening thump, which made his heart just about leap right out of his chest. Within seconds of hearing the scream and consequent clunk, the oldest brother had sprung up off his bed and made his way into the hall outside of his bedroom. Raphael was the next one to step out into the hallway, followed by a very drowsy-looking Michelangelo.

Three out of four turtles stood there, staring at one another for several seconds before Donatello's missing presence confirmed that the scream had come from their genius brother.

Generally the first to react during a crisis, Leo rushed towards Donnie's door and threw it open with far more force than seemed necessary. Had anyone been standing behind the door, they would have been knocked out cold by the impact. Fortunately, Donatello wasn't anywhere near the door. Not so fortunately, he was lying on the floor beside his bed, coiled up in pain.

"Donnie!"

Upon entering the room and seeing his intellectual brother curled up into a fetal position on the floor, Leonardo instantly dove down to his knees right next to Donatello.

"Dude, did Donnie just fall out of bed?"

Ignoring his baby brother's question and subsequent little snicker, Leo carefully rolled Donnie onto his shell and was appalled to discover that his brother was lying in a pool of his own vomit. As soon as Mikey saw this, his sniggering turned into a gasp.

Panic was beginning to take hold and it showed on all three of the conscious turtles' faces.

If this would have been a normal night, they may not have gotten instantly worked up over the fact that Donnie had thrown up, but this had been no normal night. They had all been exposed to Karai's highly toxic venom. If not for Master Splinter's Healing Hands technique and poison draining mantra, all four brothers, along with April and Casey, would have died from the venom inside of them.

Master Splinter had administered the Healing Hands to April, Raph, and Casey and Leonardo had performed his father's technique on Donnie, Mikey, and himself. Everyone had seemed all right after that, so April and Casey had headed home and the Hamato family had turned in for the night, thinking that the events of the evening were behind them.

Now, they weren't so sure.

As if to cast further doubt, Donnie groaned in pain, but his eyelids did not open.

"Aw, shell! What's wrong with him?" There was obvious disgust in Raph's voice, but Leonardo wasn't sure if it was because of the awful smell now hanging in the air, or if it was because his hotheaded brother was concerned about Donnie. Maybe it was a little bit of both. It was sometimes hard to gauge what Raph was actually feeling inside, since he pretty much sounded disgusted all the time.

"I don't know, Raph. Donnie? Can you hear me?" Stooping over his genius brother, Leonardo gently patted Donatello on the cheek that hadn't come into contact with the former contents of his stomach. Donnie was lightly shivering, but yet, his skin was coated in a heavy layer of sweat.

Dread wrapped its way around Leo's chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

"Donnie, wake up!"

Regardless of the blue-masked turtle's continued efforts to rouse him, Donatello's eyes still remained tightly sealed shut. His face was contorted into a grimace that told them he was in a significant amount of discomfort.

It was at this point that their father arrived.

"What is going on in here?" Master Splinter's voice carried a trace of irritation, most likely over being woken up at such an undesirable hour, but as soon as he saw his second youngest son lying on the floor, his tone softened with concern. "Leonardo, what has happened?"

"I'm not sure, Sensei. We heard a scream and found Donnie lying on the floor."

Master Splinter quickly knelt down beside his most intellectual son and began to assess his condition. The first thing the father noticed, other than the 'mess' on the floor, was the difficulty in his child's breathing. The next thing he noticed was that his son was profusely sweating. He could feel it when he pressed his fingers against Donatello's neck to check his pulse. He could also feel his son's heart rate was far faster than normal and his body was trembling.

"What's wrong with him, Sensei?"

"We must take him to the Dojo. I believe the poison may still be in his system. I will need my mantras."

Sensing the urgency in their father's voice, Leo and Raph nodded and were about to carry Donnie to the Dojo when the genius turtle's eyelids began to flutter.

"Donnie," Leo breathed out his brother's nickname, quietly trying to lure him out of his stupor.

Master Splinter was next to try to get through to his ailing child.

"Donatello? Can you hear me, my son?"

The purple-masked turtle's heavy eyelids slowly opened, and as soon as his eyes came into focus, they were teeming with panic. Much to his family's surprise, Donatello jerked up into a sitting position and used the heels of his feet to push himself away, as though he was scared to death of them. He kept scooting backwards until he felt his shell bump into a wall. With nowhere else to go, Donnie stared up at his family through terror-filled eyes and shook his head from side to side. A shriek was lodged in his throat as he sat there, frozen with fear.

His family exchanged wary glances before turning their attention back to the frightened turtle who just continued to shake his head.

"Donatello, what is wrong?"

When Master Splinter reached out and tried to place a paw on his son's shoulder, Donatello jerked away as though his father's touch had scalded him.

"N – No! S – Stay away from me!" The pitch in Donnie's voice abruptly turned sharper than normal, making them all flinch. His face then twisted into another grimace as he wrapped his arms securely around his stomach, hunching over slightly as if he was trying to curl himself up into a ball again.

"Donnie, what's the matter?"

Leo crouched down before Donatello and slowly edged closer and closer to his now visibly shaking sibling. The oldest turtle then attempted to put a hand on his genius brother's shoulder to comfort him, just like his father had tried to do, but Donnie was quick to bat his brother's arm away and glare up at him through narrowed eyes.

"What's the _matter_? April's gone and you all blame me for it!" The harshness in Donatello's voice was something none of them had expected to hear. The bitter tone was almost as shocking as what he had just said.

"Wh – What are you talking about, Donnie?" As Leo posed his question, he was unable to hide his growing distress. His normally most rational brother was acting completely irrational. Could this have been a side effect of Karai's venom? Was there still poison in Donnie's system, as Master Splinter had suspected? The oldest turtle noticed that his smartest brother kept clutching and clawing at his stomach and his skin was several shades lighter than usual. Leo wondered if these were possible symptoms of being poisoned. This was out of his area of expertise. Diagnosing things was typically Donnie's department, not his . . .

The genius turtle's voice then cut through Leonardo's troubled thoughts.

"You know what I'm talking about! You – You all made it abundantly clear that you blame me for April's death!"

Leo glanced at his father, and then, over his shoulder at Mikey and Raph, hoping that they might be able to shed some light on the situation, but they all looked just as baffled as he was.

"Donnie, have you totally lost your mind?" Raph barked out with far more bite than seemed necessary. Leo flashed a murderous glare at his red-banded brother before turning his attention back to his brainy brother.

"Listen to me, Donnie. April's not dead."

Upon hearing Leo's words, Donnie peered up at his oldest brother with a glimmer of hope, but then, anger flickered in his bloodshot eyes once again. "No! I saw her! Why would you lie about something like that? We watched her die! I tried to revive her, but you guys stopped me! Then, you said it was my fault!"

Feeling his panic climbing to new heights, Leonardo latched onto Donnie's upper arms at that point, firmly enough to hold his younger brother steady, but gentle enough not to hurt him. Unfortunately, Donatello was startled by the sudden physical contact and he instantly began to thrash about in his oldest brother's grip.

"Donnie, you need to calm down! April's fine! She went home with her dad a couple hours ago! Don't you remember that?"

"N – No! You're – You're just saying that! I let her die! It's all my fault! April's gone and it's all my fault!" Donnie's voice broke several times while he cried out the words. He then shoved Leonardo away from him, causing his stunned oldest brother to fall backwards a couple of feet.

"Donnie, stop it! It was just a nightmare or a hallucination! April's not – "

"No! Quit lying! I don't wanna hear it anymore! Just get out! All of you!" The words had no sooner left his lips when Donatello whimpered and doubled over in pain, but a few seconds later, he forced himself to straighten back up. It was obvious that he was still suffering, but he was trying to hide it behind his anger. Beads of perspiration were now running down his brow and it sounded as if he was panting.

Afraid that his distraught son's condition was worsening, Master Splinter moved closer, which only made Donatello's behavior grow even wilder and more violent. He flung his arms out in self-defense, desperately trying to fend off his family's advances.

"Donatello, you are not well. Let us help you, my son. Perhaps if you – "

"No! Don't! Touch! Me! I don't want anyone's help! I killed April! It's all my fault! You said it yourselves! You're all – " Before Donatello could finish his sentence, he suddenly pitched forward and would have faceplanted into the floor if not for Master Splinter and Leonardo's lightning fast reflexes. The two of them grabbed Donnie by the shoulders and hoisted him back up so that his now limp form was leaning against them.

"Forgive me, my son," Master Splinter remorsefully whispered into his second youngest child's ear slit while his other three children watched on in shock as he pulled his fingers away from the pressure point that he had pushed on their genius brother's neck to render him unconscious.

"Leonardo and Raphael, take Donatello to the Dojo. Michelangelo, please contact April and ask her to come down to the lair as soon as possible. It is important that she be here when Donatello wakes up."

"Hai, Sensei." Bowing his head in acknowledgement, Mikey sympathetically stared down at his brainy big brother for a long-drawn-out moment before turning to exit the room.

Master Splinter was next to leave the room, moving at a much hastier pace than normal.

The two oldest brothers quickly did as they were told. Leonardo lifted Donnie's upper body while Raph grabbed hold of his brainiac brother's legs. They then carefully carried their second youngest brother straight to the Dojo where Master Splinter had already laid out a tatami mat for them to place Donatello on.

Leo and Raph gently lowered Donnie down onto the mat and tried to make him comfortable. They then knelt next to their genius brother and nervously stared down at him. Though Donnie appeared to be sleeping, there was a look of torment etched on his face that told them their brother was still in pain.

Taking in a deep, cleansing breath, Master Splinter approached his three boys. Worry was weighing heavily on his heart.

The circumstances were eerily similar to earlier in the evening, when he had helped April try to fight off the poison. Splinter's own advice sounded out in his head . . .

" _The poison is still inside you. I can slow it down, but only you can defeat it."_

Those words were just as relevant then as they were now.

He just hoped that Donatello still had the strength inside of him to defeat the poison, just as April had.

Master Splinter knelt down across from his two oldest sons, on the other side of Donatello, and pressed his curled up paws together to begin the mantra. Leonardo and Raphael watched on intently as their father went through the motions and chants. When Splinter's paws started to glow white, he placed them on Donatello's abdomen and the outline of his unconscious son's body began to shimmer the same bright white. Splinter then pulled his paws away and the light surrounding Donatello's frame grew brighter, indicating that the procedure was working.

It was at this point that Mikey burst into the Dojo, making his usual dramatic entrance.

"April's on her way! She should be here in a few – Whoa! Dude, is Donnie s'posed to be glowing like that?"

"Yes, Michelangelo," Master Splinter said softly, keeping his eyes fixed on Donatello's still silent form.

"So did I get all glowy like that when Leo healed me?"

Those words made Leonardo's head snap up and his skin blanch with sudden realization. The tension of the situation hadn't allowed him to focus on anything other than Donnie, but now that the blue-masked ninja had a moment to finally think straight, he was able to process what Michelangelo had just said.

The oldest turtle stared down at Donnie, and then, down at his own hands. He had administered the Healing Hands technique to Donatello, and now, his brother had fallen ill.

Leonardo's hands began to shake with horror as his father's words from earlier that night repeated in his head, mockingly . . .

" _And now, you show great gifts as a healer."_

What if Master Splinter had been wrong? What if Leonardo wasn't a natural healer as his father had assumed? What if he had messed up the mantras? What if _he_ was the reason Donnie was still poisoned? And what if Donnie wasn't the only one he had failed to heal?

"Mikey, are you all right?" The desperation in Leonardo's voice as he had asked the question was glaringly obvious.

"Yeah, fine, dude. Why?"

As if his youngest brother's answer hadn't been enough to appease his now troubled mind, Leonardo visually examined Mikey's condition, acting like he was terrified his baby brother would collapse at any second.

Sensing his oldest son's rapid onset of anxiety, Master Splinter looked up to see that Leonardo was frantically looking over Michelangelo and it only took a moment for the father to figure out the reason for his firstborn son's distress.

Master Splinter returned his gaze to Donatello to see that the light that had surrounded his body just seconds before had faded out, telling the concerned father that the process was complete. His intellectual son's shivering had ceased and he looked to be resting comfortably. Though his eyes remained closed, his skin was reverting to its normal color and his breathing was coming easier than before. Splinter felt confident that the mantra had helped to successfully cure whatever toxin had been afflicting his son. Now, there was nothing more to do than wait for his second youngest son to regain consciousness. Yes, Master Splinter could have exploited another pressure point to wake his child up, but he felt it was more important that Donatello rest for the time being. At least until April arrived.

Heaving out a sigh of relief, Master Splinter lifted his head up again to see three worried faces staring at him.

"How is he, Sensei?" The guilt in Leonardo's voice while he asked the question was almost palpable and did not go unnoticed by his father. Master Splinter lowered his eyebrows in contemplation.

"I believe your brother is out of danger at this point, for I no longer sense the darkness that was once within him. I anticipate that he will make a full recovery."

Now it was his three sons who heaved out sighs of relief. Raphael and Michelangelo's expressions showed gratitude for the good news their father had just delivered, but Leonardo's still held angst.

It was evident that Donatello wasn't the only one battling with inner demons.

"Raphael and Michelangelo, will you please watch over Donatello and notify me if his condition changes. Leonardo, may I have a word with you, please?"

Without waiting for his oldest son's response, Master Splinter strolled towards the main living space of the lair, certain that Leonardo would follow. The wise old rat had been correct in his assumption.

When his eldest son stepped down into the pit of the lair where Master Splinter stood waiting for him, the father turned and looked at Leonardo with a difficult to read expression that made the turtle nervously shift his weight from leg to leg.

"What is it that is troubling you, Leonardo?"

There was no sense in Leo even trying to deny that something was troubling him. His highly observant father would see right through any attempt to refute the accusation. And so, he came clean.

"This is all my fault, Sensei. I was the one who gave the Healing Hands to Donnie and it obviously didn't work. He could've died because of me."

Softening his expression slightly, Master Splinter reached out and placed a paw on top of Leonardo's left shoulder.

"You are not to blame for what happened, my son."

"But I should've realized it sooner! Donnie was the last one to wake up and he kept – " Leonardo's voice was growing in volume with each passing word, so Master Splinter held up a paw to shush his son before he got too loud.

"This is not your fault, Leonardo. You had no way of knowing that this would come to pass."

"But if I would've just let you perform the Healing Hands – " Leonardo left the sentence hanging, figuring the rest went without saying.

"It never ceases to amaze me how quickly both you and Donatello are to assume blame for everything."

Leonardo wrinkled his beak in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Donatello are more alike than you realize, my son. Like you, Donatello is strong-willed and determined. He strives for perfection and when he does not meet the high expectations that he has placed on himself, he considers it failure. Just as you are mentally punishing yourself over your perceived failure to heal Donatello, Donatello has been punishing himself over his failure to cure April."

"But April's fine. The Healing Hands saved her."

"Yes, but Donatello was not the one who ultimately saved her, and because of that, he feels as though he has failed her."

Master Splinter narrowed his eyes and curled his lips into a knowing smirk, confident that his oldest son would recognize the true meaning behind his words. As soon as he saw Leonardo wince, he knew that his son had pieced together the clues.

"I know what you're getting at. I wasn't the one who saved Donnie, and so I feel like I failed him."

The smirk Master Splinter had been wearing transformed into a warm smile when he heard the hint of exasperation in his son's voice.

"That is correct, Leonardo. You did not fail your brother, just as he did not fail April. The two of you should not be so willing to accept blame all the time. It is not healthy."

"So what do we do now, Sensei?"

"Now, we must make Donatello see that he is not at fault for anything that has occurred, but this may not be as easy as it seems. Based off your brother's earlier actions, I fear that he is still upset by what transpired in the lab before the two of you went to meet Miwa." Master Splinter cast an uneasy gaze towards the Dojo, his long face dropping into a deep frown.

Again, Leonardo scrunched his face up to demonstrate his confusion and Master Splinter was quick to elaborate.

"When Mr. O'Neil was upset over your brother's lack of progress, he took his frustration out on Donatello and I did not defend your brother's efforts. My actions when April was stricken were not in your brother's best interests."

"But you were just trying to help save April."

"Yes, but I did not chose my words wisely, Leonardo. Donatello was doing the best he could under the circumstances, but I failed to point that out. Instead, I spoke harshly to him, and for that, I am truly sorry. Words can be just as hurtful as any weapon or even the deadliest venom. They can seep under the skin and slowly poison a person's mind. As intellectually gifted as your brother is, his intelligence can sometimes be his worst enemy. He takes everything literally and tends to let disapproval and criticism consume him like a cancer. I do not know exactly why Donatello fell ill, but I suspect that his wounded spirit had some hand in it."

"I'm pretty sure I had a hand in it, too."

In the back of Leonardo's mind, he could hear the conversation that had taken place just before he and Donnie had left the lair to go help their brothers and Casey. He remembered Mr. O'Neil getting aggravated and raising his voice at Donnie. Leo hadn't even given his genius brother a chance to respond before he had told both Donnie and Mr. O'Neil to calm down . . .

" _She's not getting any better! I brought her here because I thought you could save her!"_

" _Calm down, you two! We have another problem."_

" _There is no other problem! April is the only thing you two should be worrying about!"_

" _I'm doing my best, Mr. O'Neil."_

" _Silence! All of you! If I can focus, I may be able to get the poison out of her system."_

Leonardo shook his head as his second youngest brother's only contribution to that conversation kept repeating in his brain.

" _I'm doing my best, Mr. O'Neil."_

The dejection in Donnie's voice as he had said those words was unmistakable, but did any of them offer him one bit of support?

 _No . . ._

It was no wonder Donnie blamed himself. None of them had given him a reason to think otherwise.

Finally, Leonardo spoke again. This time, _his_ voice was the one filled with dejection.

"Before Donnie and I went to meet with Karai, Mr. O'Neil was basically accusing Donnie of not doing a good enough job and I didn't do anything to stop him. I should've stood up for Donnie. I should've never let Mr. O'Neil say those things to him."

"We were all under a great deal of stress, Leonardo, and stress can make a person do or say things they later regret. When Donatello told Mr. O'Neil that he was doing his best, I should have thanked your brother for all he had done. Instead, I called for silence and made it seem as though his efforts to save April were not good enough, as well. The things I said were just as hurtful as Mr. O'Neil's words, if not more."

"How are we gonna fix this?"

Just as Master Splinter was about to answer his son's question, the sound of a turnstile spinning filled the air, followed by a second rotation of the same turnstile. The weary rat turned his head to see April rapidly approaching. Her father was walking behind her with much more tentative footsteps.

"Guys! How is he? We got here as fast as we could!"

"I am sorry we had to wake you both at such an unpleasant hour, but it was an emergency."

"No need to apologize, Master Splinter. I'm glad Mikey called. So where's Donnie? Is he okay?"

There was no doubt that April was extremely upset. It warmed Master Splinter's heart to see that the girl his most intellectual son cared so deeply for cared just as deeply for him in return.

"He is in the Dojo resting. I believe the poison no longer poses a threat, but it is important that you be here when he wakes, April. The poison made him see things that were not real. In his mind, he thinks we lost you and he is the one responsible for what happened."

Upon hearing this, April cupped a hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp and her oversized blue eyes began to shimmer with tears.

"Poor Donnie. I need to see him." With that said, April rushed towards the Dojo.

Torn between whether to stay or go, Leonardo glanced back and forth between Master Splinter and Mr. O'Neil for several seconds. The blue-clad turtle then chose to join his brothers and April inside of the Dojo, leaving the two fathers alone in the pit of the lair.

The better part of a minute passed by before Kirby broke the awkward silence.

"Is Donatello going to be all right?"

Master Splinter rubbed his chin and furrowed his brow before responding.

"He was understandably distraught by the happenings of the evening, but his physical condition appears to be stable. I believe April's presence is essential for his emotional recovery. I am grateful to you for bringing her here so quickly." As Master Splinter spoke, his face divulged no emotion, making the situation even more awkward.

"Well, it's the least I could do, Master Splinter. Your family helped to save my little girl."

"And now, you are helping to save my son. As I said, I – " Before he could properly thank Mr. O'Neil again, Splinter's sentence was unexpectedly cut short by the sound of his youngest child's anxious voice coming from the Dojo.

"Sensei!"

Within seconds of hearing Michelangelo call out to him, Master Splinter was inside of the Dojo. Moments later, Mr. O'Neil entered as well.

It didn't take long for Splinter to figure out why his youngest son had sounded so anxious.

Donatello was starting to stir in his sleep. His three brothers were gathered around him, but they had allowed April to kneel closest to him. She was gently petting his head and attempting to coax him out of his slumber. Before long, a low moan rattled in the back of Donatello's throat and he slowly pried his eyelids apart. What he saw made him blink several times before gasping out one word.

"A – April?"

It looked like the genius turtle had seen a ghost. He stared wide-eyed up at the beautiful redhead hovering over him and shook his head in disbelief. His mouth gaped open, as if to speak, but no words would come out. Just the sound of his uneven breathing.

"Yeah, it's me, Donnie."

Still in denial, Donatello's pleading gaze shifted between each occupant of the room, as though silently asking them if what he was seeing was real.

When April noticed the doubt in Donnie's eyes, she cupped her hands around his face and gently turned his head so that his gaze met hers again.

"I'm fine, Donnie. It was just a bad dream. I'm still here." April softly stroked the side of Donnie's face with her thumbs to reassure him that she was indeed real.

"Y – You're . . . You're alive? I thought I'd – we'd lost you." Donnie's voice cracked against his will as he peered up at the girl he thought he'd never see again. The girl he'd been in love with from the moment he laid eyes upon her.

Flashing Donatello a radiant smile that made his heart beat about a million miles per minute, April then bent down and helped him sit up so she could immediately pull him into a fierce hug.

"Oh, Donnie. I'm so glad you're okay."

Happily returning the embrace, Donnie rested his chin on top of April's shoulder and leaned his head against hers.

"I'm so sorry, April. I'm sorry I couldn't come up with an antidote for you. If it weren't for Master Splinter, you would've – " Donnie couldn't bear to complete the sentence. He pulled away from April and hung his head down in disgrace. He then felt someone's hand on his shoulder.

"We all know you tried the best you could, Donnie. There's no need to apologize, little brother."

The hand clinging onto Donatello's shoulder squeezed tighter, but the second youngest turtle's head remained bowed down, as though he was still ashamed, even after what his oldest brother had just said.

"Leonardo is right Donatello. You did everything you could to help April."

Those last words came from the father Donnie would have least expected to hear them from. The purple-masked turtle timidly lifted his head up to stare at Mr. O'Neil.

"Thank you, Donatello. I should've said it before, but I never got the chance. Thank you for trying to save my daughter. And I'm sorry if I made you think that your efforts weren't appreciated." The expression on Kirby's face was the perfect blend of gratitude and humiliation. It was clear that he felt guilty for what he had and hadn't done earlier in the evening. He had never meant to get angry or insinuate that Donatello hadn't been doing everything he possibly could. His only concern at the time had been April.

The heartfelt apology made the corners of Donatello's mouth arch up into a modest grin while his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Then, without any warning, April leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him again, drawing him near so she could press a soft kiss against his already blushing cheek.

"Thank you, Donnie. I know you did everything you could to save me. You _always_ do."

As April held onto her best friend for dear life, Donnie's eyes rolled around in his head like tumblers in a slot machine and he let out a silly little giggle. The tension and pain that he had been feeling inside instantly melted away, replaced by a feeling of pure bliss.

While he watched his brilliant son's giddy reaction to April's chaste peck on the cheek, Master Splinter came to the sudden – and somewhat unsettling – realization that the hands weren't the only part of the body with the capability to heal.

Oftentimes, the perfect cure came from the heart.

Master Splinter's long face twisted into a droll little smirk.

Clearly, Leonardo was not his only pupil to show great gifts as a healer, although Splinter had to admit, April's methods were rather unconventional. Still, she had helped to rid his son of the poison clouding his mind, just as the wise old rat had anticipated, and for that, he was eternally grateful.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: This is the first time I've ever written an Apritello moment. So . . . did I do okay? No flames please. 0_o**_

 _ **Thank you so much to HyunaLeo96 for the wonderful story suggestion and for being so incredibly patient with me. *huge hugs* I hope that you all enjoyed how the story turned out.**_

 _ **Just so everyone knows, I'm already working on a 'Shell Shot' that takes place after the episode 'Requiem.' Thanks to those who contacted me about writing a story based on that episode. I hope to post it soon, but I need to watch 'Owari' first. I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed that 'Owari' won't destroy me the way that 'Requiem' did. I'm still trying to recover from that episode . . .**_

 _ **Once again, please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on this story if you like these 'TMNT Shell Shots.' Thanks to everyone for reading and have a great day! ;) CJ**_


	7. Grief (Requiem Epilogue)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This story takes place several hours after the episode 'Requiem.' If you have not seen the episode yet, I recommend watching it before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Grief' Summary:**_ _**As the new head of the household, Leonardo is struggling to find a way to help his little brothers come to terms with the loss of their father. Maybe that's because he himself cannot come to terms with it.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: After watching the episode 'Requiem,' I'm still having a difficult time putting the pieces of my broken heart back together again. I was already crying before poor Mikey said "Papa," but after that, I was a blubbering mess. Though I am still in mourning, I wrote this 'Shell Shot' because I had several readers request that I write a story that takes place after that episode. So, here it is, written in my own tears . . .**_

 _ **As always, a big thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read, favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on this collection of one-shots. Please continue to do so. I would love to know if you are enjoying them. Thanks, again! ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Grief**

I can still see the long contours of my father's frame despite the fact that there is a thin sheet draped loosely over his body. The smell of incense still lingers in the air hanging thick over the Dojo, but the sweet scent of sandalwood and juniper is slowly being overpowered by a more ominous odor. It's an unpleasant combination of blood, sweat, and tears.

So many tears . . .

I lean forward and place my hand on my father's motionless chest, shuddering over how cold he feels underneath my touch, even through the sheet.

It's been eight hours now, and still, there's this naïve part of me that actually believes his heart will just suddenly start beating again and everything will somehow be okay. After all, my father had always taught me to never give up hope, even against seemingly impossible odds.

And so I keep clinging to this blind, stubborn faith that he'll open his eyes and say my name again. I keeping telling myself that he has defied death so many times now, why should this time be any different?

But the truth is, this time is totally different. This time, there's no Fugitoid to take us back six months in time to undo the damage that was done. This time, my father didn't get sucked down into a powerful vortex or fall into some deep, dark chasm where we couldn't see his fate. No, this time, he was murdered in cold blood right in front of us. Stabbed in the back by the man he once thought of as a brother.

This time, my father's not coming back . . .

I close my eyes and feel the newly familiar sensation of fresh tears falling once more.

They say that there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Up until now, I've never really put much stock in that theory. Maybe that's because, up until now, I've never _truly_ lost someone. Not like this. I've never had to face the reality of having to bury a member of my own family. I've never felt so much sorrow and emptiness in all my life.

They're right about grief. The stages that is. Well, sort of. The thing is, each one of my brothers and I seem to be stuck in one particular stage.

The fact that I continually keep checking my father for a pulse or any kind of movement is proof that I'm the one in the denial stage.

My immediate younger brother, Raphael, is not surprisingly battling with the anger stage.

My genius brother, Donatello, seems to be all over the depression stage.

And my youngest brother, Michelangelo, is no doubt in the bargaining stage of things.

The only stage we don't have covered is the acceptance one. Maybe that's because none of us are willing to let go.

I stare down at my father's lifeless body and I feel my breath start to catch in my chest, almost like I've got a bad case of the hiccups, but I know it's just my body trying to fight off another round of sobs. I realize that it's not healthy to hold back my emotions, but I'm the head of the household now and my father would tell me that I need to be strong for my brothers.

What I wouldn't give to actually hear him say something along that line again?

Things are so surreal right now.

About nine hours ago, I had been standing in the very spot that I am now kneeling on, only I had been looking my father in the eyes, not looking at a sheet hiding his face from view.

How could everything change in just a matter of hours?

In the back of my mind, I can still hear the conversation that had taken place between my father and I just before we left the safety of the lair last night . . .

" _Master Splinter? You've been kind of distant the past few days. You've been meditating nonstop and you're barely sleeping. Are you okay?"_

" _Leonardo, my son, please, let us not talk about me. Let's talk about you. Do you know why you are leader of this team?"_

" _Um, yeah. Because I asked to be. You said it wasn't because of my skills."_

" _I said that only to temper your ego at the time. I knew even when you were a small boy that you would one day grow up to be the leader of this team. And when I pass on, to be like a father, as well."_

" _Pass on? Wh – what are you talking about, Sensei?"_

" _Leonardo, if I can only impart one piece of wisdom that will remain with you forever, remember, giving guidance to your brothers and friends does not come from here, it comes from here."_

He had held his hand over my heart, just as I'm holding my hand over his heart right now. A heart that is no longer beating.

How can I feel nothing and everything at the same time?

"Oh, father. What have I done?"

I could've stopped this from happening . . .

I knew there had been something troubling him. I could sense it . . .

" _I don't get it. Y – You're fine, father. Is there something you're not telling me?"_

I had recognized the ominous tone of his message . . .

" _And when I pass on . . . "_

" _If I can only impart one piece of wisdom that will remain with you forever . . . "_

But still, I had let him leave the lair, knowing that something bad was going to happen. I should've trusted my gut. Because I made the wrong choice, Sensei is gone.

My father's voice rings out in my head again. Something that he said to me the night that I had nearly killed all three of my brothers because of a poor decision I had made . . .

" _It is right that you should feel pain for your mistakes, but it is one thing to regret bad decisions after they are made. A leader must foresee how bad decisions lead to bad results."_

This time, my bad decision had led to something far, far worse.

If I would've foreseen this coming, I would've done things so much differently. I would've stopped him from coming with us. I would've let him know how much I loved him and thanked him for all he'd done for us. I would've told him I wasn't ready for _this_.

But I didn't, and now, he's gone.

It's too late . . .

Tears start to prick my eyes again, so I decide to go check on my brothers before I completely lose it. I pull my hand away from my father's motionless figure to wipe my eyes before rising to my unsteady feet. I don't know exactly how long I've been kneeling here now, but my legs feel like limp noodles underneath me. Although I'm willing to bet the weakness in my limbs isn't just because I've been kneeling for too long. The profound sadness weighing me down probably has something to do with it, too.

Upon exiting the Dojo, I head straight towards Mikey's bedroom, where I had last seen him. I wordlessly bypass both Raph and Donnie, who are in the main living space of the lair. I'm not exactly sure why, but I feel this need to see my youngest brother first. Maybe it's because Mikey is the baby of the family. Maybe it's because Mikey cried the hardest the whole way home. Or maybe it's because I know that Mikey will be the easiest brother to deal with because he doesn't mask his hurt with anger like Raph or bottle his emotions up inside like Donnie.

When I get to Mikey's bedroom, the door is wide open. My baby brother's never been real big on privacy.

Making sure to stay as silent as possible, I poke my head inside of the room. Mikey is kneeling beside his bed, his hands clasped together and tucked snuggly underneath his chin. His eyes are closed, clearly in silent prayer. It was a similar position to the one I'd found him in earlier when I'd checked on him. Only that time, his prayer hadn't been silent. I'd been able to hear the whole thing . . .

" _Please! I don't know who's listening up there, but whoever you are, please just bring our father back to us. My brothers and I . . . we still need him. I promise if you grant me this one wish, I'll try to be the best turtle I can be. And I totally promise to be a better son and brother. No more pranks or clownin' around. I'll do anything if you just let him come back to us. Even if it's just for a little while so we can say goodbye . . . Please!"_

The whole ride back to the lair, Mikey had begged our father not to go. He had even offered to give up comic books and pizza at one point if Sensei would just open his eyes. It had been heartbreaking to listen to.

Yeah, Mikey was definitely in the bargaining stage of grief . . .

I choose not to enter my baby brother's room, leaving him to continue praying to anyone that might hear him. It just doesn't feel right to interrupt him during this moment. Like me, my youngest brother is desperately grasping at hope and I'm certainly not going to be the one to dash it. Unfortunately, it'll be dashed soon enough. For the time being, I just want Mikey to hold onto his faith for as long as he can.

You know, as distraught as Mikey is right now, I honestly think he's handling it the best out of all of us. That's not to say he isn't a complete wreck. I'd heard the way he cried out 'Papa' after we lost father. It nearly made me lose what little composure I still had left, but at least Mikey was allowing himself to mourn. Unlike Donnie and Raph, Mikey wasn't trying to hide his sorrow behind his pride. He had worn it without reservation or shame. My baby brother's ability to embrace his emotions is something I think will help him through this. Yes, it'll be hard on him, but Mikey's far stronger emotionally than any of us. He's always been my most optimistic brother and I'm confident he'll bounce back the quickest.

I quietly walk away from Mikey's room and head towards the sound of my hotheaded brother's voice – or rather the sound of his grunts and growls. It looks like he's trying to pound the practice dummy into oblivion.

I approach with cautious footsteps. Disrupting Raph during an intense pummeling session is always extremely dangerous. One wrong move and you could wind up with a jitte sticking out of you . . .

When I get within a few feet of my most temperamental brother, it occurs to me that I have absolutely no idea what to even say to him. I mean, we just lost our father. What exactly _do_ you say? Somehow, the usual 'Hey, Raph, how's it going' conversation starter doesn't seem appropriate here. And so I simply stand next to him like an idiot, but he doesn't appear to notice. He just continues his assault on the punching bag.

I can see that his hands are red from slamming them into his target, over and over again. I'm obviously going to have to intervene, because there's no way my stubborn as shell brother is going to stop on his own.

"Um, Raph, can we talk?"

In response to my question, I notice Raph's blows grow increasingly harder and the muscles in his neck cord with even more tension than before.

I know it's a risky move, but I reach out and grab hold of my brother's dominant hand just as he's about to slam it square into the dummy's chest again. Hopefully, he won't decide to hit me instead.

"Please, Raph – " Before I can even try to reason with him, my brother cuts me off.

"I don't wanna talk, Leo!" Though Raph growls out the words, I can hear the despair in his voice. Despair that sounds foreign coming from my normally thick-skinned brother. He then lets out a thunderous roar and smashes the fist that I'm not grasping into the unsuspecting punching bag. His clenched hand stops cold once it makes contact with the dummy, as if his knuckles were suddenly crazy glued to the thing.

I have to admit, I'm grateful for this momentary reprieve, because I'm pretty sure if Raph would've kept going the way he was, he would've busted both of his hands just out of spite.

My immediate younger brother is quick to turn his face away from me, presumably afraid of what I might see if I look him in the eyes. I know he's hurting, but he's too headstrong and embarrassed to show it.

"Raph."

"I . . . I can't talk about it."

The slight crack I hear in Raph's voice is nothing short of gut-wrenching.

"Raph, all I'm trying to – "

"Just leave me alone, Leo! I said I can't, okay?"

As soon as Raph finishes his highly volatile response, he roughly pulls his hand out of my grip so he can draw it back and thrust it into the practice dummy with bone-crushing force. He then turns and looks at me, pressing his lips into a grim line while he does so. For a fleeting moment, I swear I see his features soften and he looks as though he's going to say something more, but he instead sidesteps around me and storms off towards his bedroom. Seconds later, the sound of his door slamming shut echoes throughout the lair.

Apparently, he's still in the anger phase of grief . . .

I'm half-tempted to go after him, but I need to respect his bid for privacy. Besides, pushing Raph when he's like this is about as safe as leaving Mikey alone in a room with a big, shiny, red button marked 'LAUNCH NUCLEAR STRIKE.'

Swallowing thickly, I turn towards my second youngest brother, whose sitting on the couch in the pit of the lair. He's hunched forward with his elbows rested on his knees and his head hung down. The whole time I had been talking to Raph – or rather _trying_ to talk to Raph – Donnie hadn't moved an inch. He had just sat there, staring down at the floor with this lost expression on his face, purposely avoiding eye contact with everyone. Just as he had done the entire trip back to the lair.

Of all my brothers, I'm the most worried about Donnie. My smartest brother has a nasty tendency to repress his feelings when he's hurting. This time is no exception. He hasn't said more than a couple words since it happened. Even when April had tried to talk to him, he had just nodded in response and kept his eyes fixed on the floor. Occasionally, he'd let out a sad little whimper or sigh, but that's about all we'd heard out of him for hours now.

Donnie's definitely not dealing well with the loss and it's kind of starting to freak me out, because my genius brother's had a rough couple of months. Since our return to Earth, he's had multiple brushes with death. He was seriously injured in that chemical plant explosion that Karai, Shini, and I had set off, he was hit by a mutant-hunter rocket, he was captured and nearly dissected by Don Vizioso and his goons, he was molecularly scattered across New York City by April of all people, and now, _this_. I'm not sure how much more Donnie can take. I'm scared the emotional toll may be more than he's capable of dealing with.

Clearing my throat to announce my presence, I sit down on the couch next to Donnie. Still, my brother doesn't move. He just continues to stare blankly down at the concrete below his feet.

Again, I struggle with finding the right words to say, and so the greater part of a minute passes before I finally speak.

"Talk to me, Donnie. Please."

Silence is all I hear and Donnie ever-so slightly veers his head away from me, which makes my heart ache.

"You've barely said anything since – " I can't bring myself to actually complete that sentence, but I'm sure my brilliant younger brother can figure out what the rest of it was going to be.

"Please don't push me away like this, Donnie. I know you're hurting. Just let me help you."

My brother's breath starts to shudder and I can see he's slightly trembling, but still, he says nothing.

I reach out and place a hand on top of his left shoulder and his head instantly turns further away from me. I realize that he's desperately trying to stop himself from crying. Just like Raph, he doesn't want me to see he's in pain.

"It's okay to cry, Donnie. Y – You don't have to hold it in. I'm here for you."

Donnie shakes his head from side to side and his breath hitches in his throat, making a pitiful squeaky sound.

"Please, just say something, Donnie."

"I – " My genius brother has to pause after only one word, in a vain attempt to compose himself. He twists his head towards me and I see the tears pooling in his reddish-brown eyes. Seeing how shattered he looks makes my own breath hitch in my throat. I instinctively wrap an arm around his back in an attempt to console him, but he tenses up at my touch and pushes himself up off the couch as if it's suddenly burning hot.

"I – I have to get the Party Wagon ready for the trip. April will be here soon and I'm sure everyone isn't gonna fit in the Shellraiser."

My brother can't even look at me as he says this and his voice grows quieter with each passing word. When he's finished, his face turns down into the saddest expression I've ever seen, and believe me, I've seen a lot of sad expressions from my second youngest brother.

To say that Donatello is suffering from the depression stage of grief would be putting it mildly.

"Donnie . . . "

Hanging his head down once again, my genius brother trudges off into his lab, shutting me out, both figuratively and literally.

When I hear the lab doors slide shut, I loll my head back and stare up at the ceiling stupidly.

That went really well . . .

I wasn't able to help any of my brothers. Some leader I am.

Heaving out a sigh, I force myself to get up off the couch and head back towards the Dojo. If Donnie's right – and my genius brother usually is – I don't have much time left to spend with my father before April and Casey get back.

When we had returned to the lair after Master Splinter's death, none of us were exactly sure what to do, so we opted to carry his body from the back of the Shellraiser into the Dojo. While we had all stood around the body, wondering what to do next, April had suggested that we have a small service for him at her family farmhouse outside of the city. No one had objected to the idea, although I don't actually know if that was because everyone had agreed with the plan or if they just didn't want to say anything.

And so, April and Casey had gone about making 'funeral arrangements.' The two of them had left with the Shellraiser to gather all of our closest friends while my brothers and I remained at the lair with our father's body until it was time to make the trip upstate. A trip that I'm not sure I'm up to making.

I'm not ready to bury my father . . .

As soon as I step foot inside of the Dojo, the air seems to grow heavier, but maybe that's just my sorrow weighing me down again. My legs feel as though they're about to give out underneath me.

Kneeling beside Master Splinter's body once more, I gently peel back the sheet covering him up and gaze down at his peaceful-looking form. He looks as if he's sleeping, but my father isn't ever going to wake up. Not this time.

I know that now . . .

" _Everything isn't permanent, Leonardo. You cannot expect anything to last forever. Even . . . family."_

My father had said those words to me only a few months ago.

Then, I remember something else he had said to my brothers and I that same day . . .

 _"It goes to show that you can never let anger separate you, for our time in this world is limited, and how terrible it would be to have unresolved anger for one another. Life is short and precious."_

Had he known _this_ was going to happen back then?

Even before we had first battled the Super Shredder, he had said that he had had a dream about dying . . .

" _My dream last night. It was very powerful. I fell into a vast pit where I fought the Shredder. My memory is hazy, but I . . . did not survive."_

" _But, it was nothing. Just a dream. Right, Sensei?"_

" _Do not fret, my family. Dreams are often symbolic, not literal. I am not going anywhere."_

He had claimed that he wasn't going anywhere, but yet, for weeks he had acted as though he knew something bad was going to happen to him . . .

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

He knew . . .

HE KNEW _ALL_ ALONG!

Suddenly, anger starts to bubble up inside of me.

"How long? Huh? How long had you known you were going to leave us?"

I'm fully aware that my father isn't going to actually answer me, but I ask aloud just the same. I can't help myself. My emotions are now running out of control. I feel like yelling and crying at the same time, but mostly, I feel scared.

So scared . . .

I don't know what to do. I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to be the father figure my younger brothers need. How can I possibly be expected to live up to my father's legacy?

I can't.

I _can't_ do this.

I close my eyes, letting my tears fall freely.

"How am I supposed to do this without you?" My voice doesn't sound at all like my own as I ask this question. It's broken and devoid of every last ounce of confidence.

In my head, I can still hear my father speaking to me . . .

" _I knew even when you were a small boy that you would one day grow up to be the leader of this team. And when I pass on, to be like a father, as well."_

Unlike my voice, my father's had been filled with such confidence and conviction as he had implied that I was about to become the head of our clan.

How could he trust me with this kind of responsibility? I'm just a teenager . . .

How could my father have that much certainty in me?

Then, I remember, he had always trusted me, through thick and thin . . .

" _Sensei, do you think I'm ready for this?"_

" _Leonardo, I made you leader for a reason."_

" _What is that reason?"_

" _That is for you to discover on your own."_

My father's faith in me never once faltered . . .

" _I don't know, Sensei. Maybe I'm not cut out for all this. I don't really think the guys respect me. I just – I just want to be a good leader, you know?"_

" _Leonardo, a true leader doesn't always impose his will, but helps his followers flourish. Grow."_

" _Maybe I shouldn't be leading the team."_

" _My son, how can your brothers believe in you as leader if you do not believe in yourself?"_

That last line makes me nearly choke on a sob.

My father _always_ believed in me, no matter what.

Now, I owe it to him to believe in myself as much as he did. He entrusted me to take care of my brothers, whether I feel I'm up to the task or not. Either way, I'm responsible for them now and that thought scares the shell out of me.

"What do I do now, father?"

Then, my father answers me, or rather, the memory of what he had said to me gives me the answer I'm looking for . . .

" _Leonardo, if I can only impart one piece of wisdom that will remain with you forever, remember, giving guidance to your brothers and friends does not come from here, it comes from here."_

I place my hand over my father's heart again, just as he had placed his hand over mine after revealing that one piece of wisdom to me.

Though only moments ago, I was afraid to move on without my father's guidance, I now realize that his guidance will always be with me, because it will always live on inside my heart. _He_ will always live on inside my heart. I think that's what my father had been trying to tell me.

My thoughts drift back to the five stages of grief. While my brothers and I may not have reached the acceptance stage just yet, my father had. He had sensed his death was imminent and he was preparing me for _this_ , although I'm pretty sure I'll never be fully prepared for _this_.

It's only been a few hours since we lost him, but I already miss him so much. He's the only parent I've even known. Even after that fateful day we were all mutated, he still took me and my brothers in and raised us all on his own. He cared for us and taught us everything he could. All that I am is because of him.

As another round of tears threatens to fall, I hear the sound of the Shellraiser approaching.

It's time. Time to haul my father to his final resting place.

A feeling of dread clenches my chest.

I slowly pull the sheet back up so that I can no longer see my father's face. I know that covering Sensei's body up one last time should be upsetting me more than it is, but maybe the fact that it isn't, means I'm moving closer towards some kind of acceptance or closure.

I stare down at my father's stock-still body yet again, and for the first time since his death, I don't feel quite so lost.

He had told me to let my heart guide me.

Well, my heart tells me that I'll see him again. Maybe not in the physical sense, but in the spiritual sense . . .

 _Someday_ . . .

Just as my tears are about to rain down for the umpteenth time in the past eight hours, I look up towards the ceiling, wondering if he's looking down upon me. If he is, I hope that I've made him proud and that's the reason why he's put his trust in me to protect my brothers.

"I promise I will do my best to take care of them, father, just like you always did your best to take care of us."

 _Always_ . . .

"I love you, otōsan."

The words come out no louder than a whisper. It's all the volume I can muster.

I lower my head back down and close my eyes for a moment, letting a few more tears fall before getting back up to go check on my brothers again.

I just made my father a promise to take care of them.

It's a promise I fully intend to keep.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: *sniffle, sniffle* Ugh, I seriously need a hug right now. This was a heartbreaking one to write and edit. As I already said, I'm still mourning after watching 'Requiem.' It pretty much crushed me. *more sniffles***_

 _ **Thanks to those who contacted me and asked me if I was going to write a 'Shell Shot' based off 'Requiem.' It means a lot to me that you thought of me after watching such an emotional episode. Hopefully I did okay.**_

 _ **Just so everyone knows, I have so many requests for stories at this point, I'm afraid I cannot possibly write them all. I'm sorry. I really appreciate the requests, but there's no way for me to keep up with all of them at this time. I will do my best.**_

 _ **For the 'Lost in the Fight' readers out there, I hope to be back next week with a new chapter.**_

 _ **Once again, please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you are enjoying these one-shots. I would love to know. Your responses make me all kinds of happy. C=**_

 _ **Thanks so much for reading! ;) CJ**_


	8. Hidden Scars (Heart of Evil Epilogue)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This one-shot is an epilogue for the episode 'Heart of Evil.' If you have not seen the episode yet, I recommend watching it before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Hidden Scars' Summary:**_ _**Raph discovers there's more to 'Angry Donnie' than meets the eye.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Today marks the one-year anniversary of my first FanFiction post. Thank you so much to everyone for the overwhelming support and kindness that you have shown me this past year. I am so grateful to all of you. And thank you to everyone who nominated my stories for the 2016 TMNT Universal FanFic Competition. I appreciate it more than I can say. *hugs***_

 _ **Okay, about the story . . . As a diehard Donatello fan, I absolutely loved the episode 'Heart of Evil,' but after watching it, I have to admit I found myself wishing that the show would have delved a little deeper into what was truly motivating Donnie's uncharacteristic behavior and actions during the episode. And so, I wrote this Shell Shot. I am dedicating this story to my wonderful friend, Kamechan98. She asked me several months ago to write a Raph and Donnie one-shot. Well, this is what I came up with.**_

 _ **Also, I want to take a moment to thank my amazing friend, Poetique823, for being the very first person to ever review one of my stories and favorite and follow me. That was the greatest gift I could ever ask for. I look up to you so much, Poetique! *more hugs***_

 _ **Awww, I'm getting all emotional here. Let's get onto the story. I hope you all enjoy it . . . ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Hidden Scars**

We all know the routine when somebody gets badly injured. We drag their wounded shell back to the lair ASAP so we can fix whatever's wrong them.

It's not unusual for one or more of us to get pretty banged up every now and then. We're ninjas, after all. Injuries are sometimes unavoidable. Although I've got to admit, these past few weeks, we've had to administer first aid way more than normal. Even now, I'm standing next to my brainiac brother while he's doing his 'Doctor Don' thing. This is the third night this week I've been asked to 'assist' Donnie. I use the word 'assist' lightly here, because all it actually means is 'go get the gauze and antiseptic, Raph.'

In this case, it's Mikey who's hurt . . . _again_. The little goofball seems to be injury prone as of late. This time, he jumped off a moving train to avoid getting hurt. Yeah, kind of an oxymoron, but then again, Mikey's kind of a – Nah, I'm not going to say it. Too easy . . .

Luckily, none of my baby brother's injuries are all that serious. Just a bunch of scrapes and bruises. Nothing he won't bounce back from after a of couple days. He looks a lot worse than he actually is. Maybe that's because Donnie's got him so bandaged up, Mikey looks like one of those lame-o mummies from the late-night horror movies he likes to watch so much.

I hear the familiar sound of the first aid kit being snapped shut, and then, Donnie's voice confirms that he's done.

"Okay, Mikey. You're all patched up. Now, it's time for you to go straight to bed."

"Awwwwww! But I was gonna – "

"No 'buts,' Mikey. You need to get some rest." My genius brother gently rubs the top of Mikey's head as he says this, which thankfully stops our youngest brother from whining in protest again. Instead, his response is a little giggle. Mikey then peers up at all three of us with an innocent smile stretched across his face. I know that look all too well. He's fishing for sympathy. No doubt Mikey's going to milk this for all its worth and try to get us to wait on him hand and shell for the next few days.

Not. Going. To. Happen.

Fearless and Brainiac might fall for the 'poor little Mikey' act, but not me. Not after what happened the last time . . .

Donnie and I help Mikey down from the worktable he had been laid out on and my oldest brother instantly shifts into 'I'm the best big brother ever' mode. He practically shoves me out of the way so he can wrap an arm around Mikey in order to support his weight. Where was all this eagerness to help when Leo had pretty much just stood there and watched Donnie and I do everything?

"Come on, Mikey. I'll help you to your room."

Of course Fearless is the first to volunteer to help Mikey to his room. Anything to make the rest of us look bad, right?

I'm about to roll my eyes when I get distracted by Mikey gazing up at Leo with one of the most pitiful expressions I've ever seen, but I see right through it.

My baby brother can really lay it on thick when he wants to.

"Thanks, Leo." Mikey's voice is all of a sudden weak and frail sounding, even though not one minute ago, he sounded perfectly normal. Like I said, my baby brother really knows how to lay it on thick.

Leo buys into it hook, line and sinker and looks over at Mikey with a guilty expression. The two of them then gimp out of the lab together and my youngest brother makes sure to whimper every couple of seconds or so for added effect. Five bucks says Mikey'll talk old Fearless into tucking him in and reading him a bedtime story.

"Well, we'd better call it a night, too," Donnie says in a tired voice as he walks over to his computer to shut it down for the evening. He then straightens a few items out on his desktop – it's an 'OCDonnie' thing – before starting towards the lab doors to presumably head off to his bedroom, but he doesn't make it very far. That's because I grab the back of his arm as he tries to walk past me.

"Not so fast, Brainiac. It's your turn."

"What?" Donnie squeaks out in a high-pitched, little voice, which might've amused me if the circumstances were different.

"You heard me. You're injured. You know the protocol."

Realization washes over Donnie's face and his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"I – I'm fine, Raph. Really. Besides, it's late. We need to get some sleep."

"You're not fine, Donnie. 'You think no one noticed you've got a knot the size of Brooklyn on the back of your head?"

Upon hearing this, Donnie's left hand immediately flies up to check his head, as if to verify what I just said was true. His face twists into a grimace of pain when his fingertips make contact with the huge bump near the base of his skull, but he's quick to try to downplay the injury, most likely in an effort to avoid talking about how it occurred.

"Oh, that. It's nothing."

Now, I may not be a freaking genius like Donnie, but I'm no idiot, either.

"Nothing, my shell!" I growl as I grab the ice pack still lying on the lab table and hold it out in front of my younger brother. He's hesitant to accept the offering, but I give him a look that informs him that 'no' isn't an option here. Donnie's the smart one, so he knows better than to mess with me. He wisely takes the ice pack from my hand and places it against the lump on his head.

"So, care to tell me what happened out there?"

"There's really not much to tell. That Hammer goon of Vizioso's knocked my feet out from underneath me and I cracked my head on a table. It's probably just a mild concussion. It isn't anything to worry about."

"That's not what I meant, Donnie, and you know it."

All of the color flees from my brother's previously reddened cheeks and his eyes start studying the floor, seemingly in search of something, but I know it's just because he doesn't want to look at me.

"Talk to me, little brother. What was up with whole the 'Angry Donnie' thing?"

"Listen, Raph. I'm _really_ tired. I just wanna get some rest." Donnie mistakenly assumes that I'm just going to give up, just because he says he's tired, but if there's one turtle in this lair more stubborn than my genius brother, it's me. I've still got a hold of his arm, and the second he tries to walk away, I tighten my grip and spin him back towards me.

"Not until you tell me what the shell is going on with you! Since when did you become the one with anger management issues? We all know darn well that's supposed to be my thing."

"I was just a little upset, is all."

"A _little_ upset? You were out for blood! Now, don't get me wrong here. I kinda liked seein' that side of you. It was nice havin' someone else get up in Leo's face for a change, but that's not like you, Donnie. You put the mission at risk because you couldn't control your temper. You could've gotten yourself killed going off on your own like that."

The word hypocrite comes to mind, but I ignore it.

"So, what? I'm not entitled to get angry every once in a while? That monster kidnapped me and tried to dissect me! Not only that, but he's shell-bent on building anti-mutant weapons! He wants us dead, Raph!"

"So do all our enemies! What did this guy do to you to make you hate him so much?"

"You wouldn't understand." Donnie's voice starts out seemingly strong, but it quickly trails off into a whisper.

"Then explain it to me. Help me understand." I release my grip around Donnie's arm so I can rest my hand on top of his left shoulder.

"I . . . I can't."

There's no mistaking that my brother's stressed out about something, but he's trying like shell to hide it from me. Well, he can try all he wants. I can still see the sorrow in his eyes, even when he's doing his darnedest to avoid eye contact with me.

"Yeah, you can! I'm tired of asking you this, Donnie! Why won't you tell us what happened that night those jerks took you? What happened _before_ we rescued you?"

Donnie shakes his head, refusing to answer my questions about that night, yet again, but this time, I'm not backing down. He's going to answer me whether he wants to or not. I'll stand here a month of Sundays if I have to. After the way he acted tonight, it's pretty obvious that something's eating him up inside and I'm not going to let him push me away just because he doesn't want to deal with it.

"Okay, let me get you started. They grabbed you and threw you in the back of that van, and then – " I leave the prompt hanging for him to continue.

Donnie sighs when he realizes that there's no way of getting out of this conversation again. Like I said before, my genius brother knows better than to mess with me. Especially when I use my 'if you know what's good for you' tone.

Finally, he gives in.

"Then they drove us to the Hignight hotel. When we got there, Mondo was barely conscious, but I had come to a few minutes before we arrived at the place. A couple of masked guys took Mondo and hauled him off. That's when Vizioso's twin henchmen climbed up in the back of the van with me and they . . . they – "

The fact that Donnie's voice just quits working on him makes a fire start to burn inside of me.

"They what, Donnie? What'd those creeps do to you?" I can't keep the growing anger out of my voice and my hands ball up into tight fists when I see how upset Donnie is. All of a sudden, I've got this insane urge to go bash some mobsters' heads in. It's bad enough those gangsters kicked the shell out of me when I was already down, but then, they shot my little brother, tied him up, held him captive, and tried to dissect him. If we hadn't gotten there when we did –

I don't even want to think about that.

Donnie's now hoarse voice sounds out and stops me from storming out of the lair and trying to single-handedly take down the mob, which is probably a good thing. Especially since not even five minutes ago, I was criticizing my brainy brother for going solo.

"They kept slapping and kicking me around and jabbing me with their guns, intentionally trying to humiliate me. I – I tried to fight back, but I was tied up and still a little dazed from getting hit with that mutant hunter rocket, so every time I got up, they just kept knocking me right back down." Donnie lowers his head, clearly ashamed of himself for not being able to fend them off.

Now, I'm seriously getting ticked off. No one pushes my little brothers around but me. I suddenly find myself wishing Kavaxas would've gotten his claws on that piece of garbage, Vizioso.

It would've saved me the trouble . . .

Just when I think I can't hate that good-for-nothing mob boss any more than I already do, I soon realize that Donnie hasn't even gotten to the worst part of the story yet.

"Then, they grabbed me by the arms and dragged me up the stairs. The whole time, they called me a 'worthless muty' and told me how hideous and disgusting I was. By the time we got up to that room where you found us, Vizioso was already waiting inside. Tweedledee and Tweedledum threw me down on the floor next to Mondo, who was still pretty much out of it."

I'm glad my brother still has enough of a sense of humor to poke fun of Vizioso's twin bodyguards, but his resolve is starting to fail. I can hear it in his voice. The words are getting harder and harder to speak.

"After that, they forced me up onto my knees and laughed at me . . . because they could see I was scared. That's when, Vizioso . . . he – " Donnie pauses for a moment to swallow before continuing " – he told me I was nothing but an ugly, pathetic, freak, and that the only good mutant, is a dead mutant. Then, he said . . . h – he said he wasn't going to stop until he got rid of every last mutant in New York. He swore to me he wouldn't rest until my entire family was dead." Donnie can barely get that last line out and he dips his head down even lower.

"That's why you wanted to take him down so bad. Because you didn't want him to go after us."

"I – I couldn't let him hurt the three of you. I can't . . . I can't lose you guys, too. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

That's when realization hits me like a sledgehammer to the head. The rage was just a front. Donnie wasn't actually angry. He was afraid. Afraid of losing us like we lost our father. It wasn't revenge he wanted at all. He just wanted to protect us from that psycho, Vizioso, because he had threatened to kill us. Donnie knew that he couldn't go through that kind of pain again. Not after what happened to Sensei . . .

I should've realized it before.

All of that fear and grief Donnie had been feeling inside over our father's death had come out in the form of anger the second he saw Vizioso and his goons again. Seeing them must've acted like some sort of trigger or catalyst as Donnie would say. At least, I think 'catalyst' is the word. It's something that starts with 'cat.' Anyway, I'm no psychology expert, but I'm guessing that Donnie didn't know how else deal with his emotions, and so, he had lashed out. Boy, can I relate to that. I'm the authority on using anger as a coping mechanism – for _everything_. Shell, the other day, I almost stabbed Mikey in the neck with a sai because he forgot to grab a new roll of toilet paper.

The sound of Donnie softly sniffling snaps me out of my thoughts.

That pitiful look on Mikey's face earlier when he was trying to get us all to feel sorry him was nothing compared to the expression on my genius brother's face right now. The only difference is, Donnie isn't searching for pity. He's actually that down in the dumps.

"I thought if I took out Vizioso, once and for all, I could keep you guys safe, but I . . . I couldn't do it. I know I should have, but I just couldn't."

The dejection and disappointment in Donnie's voice makes my stomach turn. All the trauma my younger brother is going through on account of what Vizioso and his cretins did to him is because of me losing my temper the night Donnie was taken. If I wouldn't have gotten mad at my family and stormed out of the Dojo in a huff that night, Donnie would've never gotten captured. I remember it all too well . . .

" _Come on, Leo! Scared of a real fight?"_

" _No, I'm scared of you getting more and more hostile and pulling away from the team! What gives?"_

" _I'm tired of training with kid gloves! No one's pullin' punches out there, why should we do it in here?"_

" _Raph!"_

" _Teishi! Because you are brothers and your goal here is to train!"_

" _Ah, Sensei, why do you always stick up for Leo? I'm the only one who takes training seriously! The rest of 'em are just goofin' off all the time!"_

" _Mwaaaaa! No one appreciates me! Back on the 'everyone loves Leo' routine? Get some new material, you big baby!"_

" _That's it! If you guys don't want to take this as seriously as I do, then I quit! I'm done! Through! Adios!"_

My temper had once again spiraled out of control, to the point that I had tried to pound Leo into the ground when we were just supposed be practicing. What's worse was I threw a shuriken less than an inch away from my brainiac brother's face. What if my aim would've been slightly off? I could've seriously injured him, all because I was ticked off.

Donnie's belittling words that night had been the last straw. I mean, _him_ calling _me_ a baby? Pffft! After that, I finally stomped out of the lair to go blow off some steam. That's when I came across that staged bank robbery, and like a moron, I tried to stop it on my own instead of calling for backup. I didn't realize until it was too late that the whole thing had been an elaborate setup. I had waltzed right into a trap and Donnie and Gecko soon wound up paying dearly for my mistake. They showed up in the Party Wagon to try to talk some sense into me, and less than a minute later, those stupid gangsters attacked us from all angles with those mutant hunter weapons of theirs. All shell broke loose, and because of my reckless actions, Donnie and Gecko were captured.

It was all my fault, as were Donnie's actions tonight. And not just because of what had happened that night Vizioso took him hostage . . .

Defying orders, getting up in Leo's face, going after the bad guys on his own, losing his temper, needlessly putting his life in danger, seeking out revenge – as much as I enjoyed seeing this side of my timid little brother at the time, I now realize the truth. He had been acting just like me.

Grabbing onto both of Donnie's shoulders, I look my brother straight in the eyes, hoping he can see just how important what I'm about to say is.

"I'm glad you didn't take him out, Donnie, because you would've never been able to live with yourself if you had. Vengeance and anger – That's not what you stand for, little brother, and I don't ever want you turning into something you're not. I don't ever want you turning into someone like me."

"Raph – " I cut my brother off before he can try to argue with me.

"Let me finish, okay? I owe you an apology, Donnie. For what happened that night Vizioso took you hostage. I apologized to Leo for what I did, but I never apologized to you. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Raph. What happened – it wasn't your fault. And I should've never said those things to you when you were already riled up. Just like Master Splin – " Before Donnie can finish the word 'Splinter,' his voice shatters like glass. It's as if the mere attempt to say our father's name brings every last ounce of his immense grief crashing down upon him. I feel him start to tremble in my grasp and I can see his eyes are getting glossier by the second.

Aw, sewer apples!

For the love of comic books, please don't let him start crying. I'm like the last turtle on Earth anyone should be around when the waterworks start. I'm terrible at dealing with this kind of stuff. And I'm not just saying that. I really, seriously suck at trying to comfort someone. Just ask any of my brothers. They'll tell you.

What Donnie needs right now is someone like Mikey, or April, or Leo, or heck, even Casey to console him. Basically, _anybody_ but me.

I'm about to call in reinforcements when my genius brother speaks again, and what he says makes it almost impossible to breathe.

"I miss him so much."

My little brother stares at me with those huge brown eyes of his and I'm suddenly frozen in place. Had it been anyone else standing in the lab with him right now, they would've probably known exactly what to say or do at this moment, but not me. I just blankly stare back at him, keeping my fingers crossed that Leo or Mikey will come save me.

No such luck.

After several long-drawn-out seconds pass, I feel Donnie's shoulders start to wiggle in my grip and he turns his head away from me, as though he's suddenly embarrassed by the situation and wants to get away.

I know what he needs. I just need to force myself to do it.

Come on, Raph. You can do this!

Drawing in a deep breath, I lean forward and wrap my arms around my younger brother, pulling him into one of the most awkward hugs of all time.

Donnie tenses up at first and his arms remain draped limply at his sides, almost like he's scared or not sure what to do in response, or maybe he doesn't believe that I'm actually hugging him, but eventually, he comes out of his state of shock and returns the embrace. As he does so, he buries his face into my shoulder and lets out a small sigh.

"I miss him, too." Those words come out much softer than I had intended them to, but I don't think it really matters to Donnie what they sound like. Just so long as he can hear them.

"'You okay?"

When I feel my brother gently nod his head against me, I release my hold on him and back away, trying not to let on just how uncomfortable that had been for me.

I'm _so_ not the 'huggy' type.

Argh! The things I don't do for my brothers . . .

"Thanks, Raph." Hearing the grateful tone in Donnie's voice instantly makes this whole somewhat painful conversation worthwhile. Even the memory of the hug doesn't seem quite so excruciating anymore.

"Anytime, little brother, but if you tell anyone about what just happened here, I'll – "

"Smack the green off me?" Donnie teases with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"That's not exactly what I was gonna say, but eh, close enough."

As I shrug my shoulders in a 'whatever' gesture, Donnie lifts a hand up to rub the back of his neck. It's something that he does out of nervous habit. Then, he says, "You know, Raph, turning out like you wouldn't be so bad. I'm pretty sure there are a lot worse things I could turn out like."

Is that supposed to be a compliment? I'm just going to assume it is because it's late and I want to get some sleep.

"Yeah, well from now on, you should probably leave the senseless acts of violence to me. I don't think Fearless could handle two hotheads in the family." I pat my little brother on the shell before adding, "Come on, Brainiac. It's time to call it a night."

As we head towards the lab doors, my genius brother smiles at me with his big, goofy, gap-toothed grin and I can't help but to smile back.

We're going to be okay, my brothers and I. Sure, we're a little banged up at the moment, on the inside and out, but as long as we've got each other, we'll always heal. Even the scars on the inside will eventually fade away. And yes, things may seem kind of dark and hopeless right now, but even though Tiger Claw and Kavaxas got the Kuro Kabuto and the Heart of Evil, I know we'll find a way to stop our enemies . . . somehow.

Hey, we're heroes. It's what we do.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I love the bond that Raph and Donnie share. I wish the two of them had more moments like this on the show. Middle brothers unite! C=**_

 _ **Thanks so much to Kamechan98 for the request and for being so patient with me. I really hope that you liked how the story turned out.**_

 _ **Please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you want to see more of these short stories. That would make me all kinds of happy.**_

 _ **Thank you all very, very much for making my first year here so amazing. I appreciate it more than words can say. Happy birthday, 'A Shell of Himself!' ;) CJ**_


	9. What Hurts the Most (Requiem One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This one-shot takes place shortly after the episode 'Requiem.' If you have not seen that episode yet, I recommend watching it before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'What Hurts the Most' Summary:**_ _**Donatello isn't sure how to answer when his baby brother asks him if dying hurts.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I won't be posting an update for 'Lost in the Fight' this week, but here's a new TMNT Shell Shot. Actually, it won't be 'new' to everyone. This is a short story I posted on Tumblr a while back that I wanted to share with all of the FanFiction readers. I wrote this for my wonderful friend, Fever to Write. If you didn't already know, Fever and I co-write the story 'Freak Show' and I completely adore her. She is an extraordinary person and so very talented. It has been such a pleasure working with her and I am so unbelievably lucky to call her my friend.**_

 _ **Okay, I'll stop being so mushy now. I really hope all of you enjoy this Shell Shot . . . ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **What Hurts the Most**

I knew it was an eventuality, but hearing the question out loud still makes me flinch inside my shell and I just about drop the TV remote to the floor.

"Donnie, does dying hurt?"

I hesitantly turn and look over at my baby brother to see that his bright, blue eyes are the size of Petri dishes, shimmering with moisture. The heartbreaking sight causes my throat to constrict and swallowing suddenly becomes more and more difficult.

How do I answer that?

A hundred-plus responses swirl through my head all at once and my brain is quick to start filtering through my options.

The 'always likes to be accurate' part of me wants to enlighten my younger brother about the many wonders of the central nervous system, but the 'let's be logical' part of me tells me that that's not what Mikey is searching for here. We just lost our father. My brother doesn't need me to go spouting off a bunch of stuff about sensory receptors or A delta and C nerve fibers.

What he needs right now is the 'big brother' part of me.

The hardest part of me to be at the moment.

Not without completely falling apart . . .

I can't let my baby brother see that . . .

I can't let him see my sorrow . . .

I seal my eyes shut for a moment, trying to hide my anguish and focus my thoughts, but I immediately find myself wishing I'd kept my eyes open. Every time I close them, I can still see it. I can still see my father freefalling from an impossible to survive height. It felt like the whole world had stopped moving except for him as I just stood there, paralyzed, watching him fall. Helpless to stop it. Helpless to save him. Helpless to do anything.

I had watched my father die, and there was nothing I could do.

I've never felt so broken inside.

I pry my eyelids apart and see that my little brother is still patiently waiting on my response. An innocent expression graces his face as he blinks up at me.

" _Donnie, does dying hurt?"_

My brother's simple yet profound question replays in my head before I finally decide on my answer.

"Not as much as it hurts to lose someone you love, Mikey."

I then hook an arm around my younger brother's carapace and pull him into a tight embrace, hoping to ease some of his pain. Although, I have to admit, my motives are not entirely unselfish. Mikey is not the only one who is in desperate need of comfort.

"I miss him, too . . . "

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I know it's short, but it's still long enough to make me cry. Poor babies are missing their papa . . . :'(**_

 _ **As always, please favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you are enjoying these stories. It means the world to me.**_

 _ **Oh, one more thing before I go . . . Because this Shell Shot was so short, I'm going to post another one right after. I hope you don't mind. ;) CJ**_


	10. Change of Heart (Requiem-Owari One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This one-shot takes place after the episodes 'Requiem' and 'Owari.' If you have not seen these episodes yet, I recommend watching them before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Change of Heart' Summary:**_ _**All Raphael wants is to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Hi again! I'm back with another TMNT Shell Shot. This is the first new story I've written since the 'troll' incident. It took me over a month, but I think I've finally gotten over my serious case of writer's block. C=**_

 _ **Okay, about the actual Shell Shot. 'Change of Heart' was originally intended to be a drabble, but it wound up a bit longer than planned, so I decided to turn it into a short Shell Shot. I would like to dedicate this story to my amazing friend and fellow author, Flaux. She has been so incredibly supportive and I can't possibly thank her enough for everything she's done for me, but I'm going to keep trying, so I wrote her a story to show my appreciation. ;) For those of you who don't know, Flaux is not only an insanely talented writer, but she's also phenomenal at drawing. She drew the new cover art for 'Lost in the Fight' and I love how it turned out! If you haven't seen her artwork yet, please go check it out. It's absolutely beautiful!**_

 _ **Speaking of 'Lost in the Fight,' I want to note that I posted 'Chapter 35 – Should'ves' last week. The reason I'm pointing this out is because an alert was not sent out for the new chapter. FanFiction has been having some technical difficulties as of late and many readers are not receiving notifications of new chapters/stories. I just wanted to let everyone know that I posted the chapter, because I'm worried a lot of readers don't realize I updated. I haven't heard from many of my regular followers.**_

 _ **Well, let's get onto the story. Thanks so much for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Change of Heart**

Some days, a turtle just can't get a moment's peace.

Today's one of those days.

Like at breakfast this morning, when Leo wouldn't shut up about my 'reckless actions' while we were out on patrol last night. He kept going on and on – blah, blah, blah – reminding me how I put the whole team in danger with my 'carelessness.' I don't know what the heck he had his bandana in such a knot for. Those Purple Dragons seriously had it coming. So what if I didn't wait for the dumb signal? I got the job done, even if it wasn't according to Leo's plan. No one got hurt. Well, no one except for those Dragons. The punks probably still don't know what hit them.

I smile, in spite of myself, but then I get to thinking about what happened after lunch. I was no sooner done eating when Donnie got on my case about not putting his tools away. That's the thanks I get for trying to help the brainiac out. He goes and chews me out, all because I left a couple of wrenches and a few parts lying around. How was I supposed to know he would trip over them? Maybe if the scrawny nerd would've paid more attention to where he was walking. He's a ninja for shell's sake.

Then, fearless couldn't leave things well enough alone. He just had to jump to Donnie's defense and put his two cents in about my attitude problem. My older brother's always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, so I told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own freaking business and he got all offended.

Things have been relatively quiet since then. It's actually been kind of nice, but I should've known it wouldn't last . . .

Now, it's just about supper time when my baby brother comes trudging into the pit, hanging his head down so low, his chin is scraping against his plastron.

What is it with my brothers and mealtimes today? Are they trying to spoil my appetite?

When I see Mikey coming towards me, I hide my face behind my comic book, hoping my youngest brother will get the hint and leave me alone, but that was dumb thinking on my part. Mikey can't even catch onto the obvious. Why on Earth would I be foolish enough to believe he was capable of getting a darn hint?

Despite the fact that I'm clearly not interested in any form of social interaction right now, Mikey plops down next to me on the couch. He then lets out this high-pitched, whiny noise that sounds like he's sprung a slow leak. I think it's supposed to be a sigh or something. Whatever it is, it's annoying. Every muscle in my body tenses up at the sound, but I just keep my face buried in my comic book.

Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just go away . . .

Yeah, right. This is Mikey we're talking about.

Somebody up there must really hate me. I mean really, _really_ hate me. But then again, I'm pretty sure I deserve every last bit of bad karma I get. I haven't exactly been kind to others. . . .

"Raph . . . Do you think I'm a pain in the butt?"

Now I know my baby brother's rather slow on the uptake, but I didn't think he was _**that**_ slow. Why would he go and ask me of all turtles a question like that? Seriously! Does he _want_ me to make fun of him?

A dozen different answers pop into my head, not one of them nice, so I just grunt in response. It isn't because I'm trying to spare Mikey's feelings here. It's because I don't want to hear another one of those weird sigh-noises of his. I'd just as soon listen to the sound of someone scraping a sai against a chalkboard.

"Well, am I?" Mikey's quick to remind me that I haven't answered his question yet.

And I thought I was impatient . . .

Normally, after being asked a second time, I would blurt out the first rude thing that comes to mind, but 'Heck yeah you are' seems a little harsh, even for me. So I decide to try avoiding the question altogether.

"Why don't you go ask Donnie? He's always got all the answers."

"I can't. He banished me from his lab for rest of the day 'cause I messed up his stuff."

"You, too, huh?"

"Yeah." Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mikey stare down at his kneepads as he adds, "And then, Leo kicked me out of the Dojo for making too much noise. He said I need to start taking things more seriously and stop being totally careless all the time."

I lower my comic book and turn towards Mikey to make eye contact with him for the first time since he walked into the pit. He has that sad puppy look on his face. The one that makes him look about ten years younger than he actually is. I almost feel sorry for the little goob.

Apparently, I'm not the only one having a crappy day because of Leo and Donnie. But while I'm angry with my two brothers for acting like a couple of jerks, my baby brother's miserable over it. It's sort of funny if you stop and think about it. Here I am, disgusted because my brothers won't leave me alone, and then there's Mikey, sitting next to me pouting because my brothers don't want him around. Well, I guess it isn't all that funny, is it? Kind of sad, really . . .

"Don't pay any attention to them, Mikey. Fearless is just being a dill weed 'cause I showed him up last night. You know how he hates it when I don't do anything he says. And Donnie – Well, he just needs to lighten up. If the genius didn't want you messing up his stuff, he shouldn't have let you inside his lab in the first place." Okay, that probably wasn't the best thing to say to cheer Mikey up.

Wait! Is that what I'm trying to do here? Cheer Mikey up? Sweet mother of mutation, what the shell is wrong with me? I don't 'cheer' people up. I'm the destructive one.

Not wanting my little brother to think I've gone soft – _because I haven't_ – I open my mouth to fire off a snide remark, but that's when Mikey let's out this pitiful little whimper that stops my comment cold. It's the same noise that he makes during practice every time he stares off in the direction of Master Splinter's empty bedroom. None of us have stepped foot inside of that room for weeks now. Not since a few days after the funeral . . .

I swallow and it feels like my throat is closing in on me. Just like it always does when I think about my father. I'm quick to shift my eyes back to the pages of my comic book, but not because I'm looking at the content. In all honesty, I can't even see the writing at this point . . .

"Well, I'll let you get back to your reading," Mikey says in a voice that's about half the volume as it had been before. He pushes himself up off the couch and starts to walk away.

Just a few seconds ago, I wanted nothing more than for my brothers to leave me alone for the rest of the day. Now –

Aw, crud!

Maybe I _am_ going soft . . .

"You know, I was gonna play a little Atomic Robo-X before supper. You want dibs on second game?"

I look up just in time to see Mikey start nodding like one of those bobbleheads. It's a wonder his face doesn't split in half with how big he's smiling.

Yeah, he's definitely a pain in the butt. Still, in moderation, he isn't all that bad. Neither are my other two brothers. I guess you could say they're an acquired taste.

Luckily, I'm not too picky. I mean, I hang out with Casey after all . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Just an FYI - this is the first non-Donnie story I've ever written. How did I do?**_

 _ **Thank you so much to PopcornWolf10 for requesting some Raph and Mikey fluff. I would've thanked you in my opening notes, but I didn't want to give too much away. I truly hope you liked the story.**_

 _ **Once again, if you are enjoying these one-shots, please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment. I would absolutely love to hear from all of you. Thank you very, very much** **for reading my stories and** **for your continued support. I appreciate it more than I can say. Hopefully I will be back next week with a new chapter of 'Lost in the Fight.' ;) CJ**_


	11. The Worst Medicine (Monkey Brains Story)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Special thanks to my creative consultant and amazing friend, Joanne N. Grey.**_

 _ ***'The Worst Medicine' Summary: When Donatello is violently attacked by a deranged mutant monkey, his brothers make fun of him instead of helping him, adding further insult to injury. Can Donnie's brothers find a way to fix the emotional damage they have done?**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I've returned with a new Shell Shot and this one'**_ _ **s quite a bit longer than my previous one-shots. This story takes place during the episode 'Monkey Brains.' Whenever I watch that episode, I'm always bothered by the fact that Donnie's brothers laugh at him when he's clearly injured, so I decided to write a one-shot about the consequences of their thoughtless actions. Hopefully everyone enjoys how the story turned out.**_

 _ **Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **The Worst Medicine**

It had been one long, painful trek back to the lair, that much was for sure. Everything – literally _everything_ – hurt. I'd been brutally assaulted by a vicious mutant and there wasn't one inch of skin on my body that hadn't been beaten or battered by my assailant.

And to think, I'd gone up to the surface with April in hopes of trying to impress her. Instead, I'd gotten pounded into the ground by a demented monkey and April had wound up having to rescue me. The girl of my dreams had to rescue _me_ from a _monkey_ , and I'm supposedly a highly trained martial artist.

Real smooth, Donatello. Way to make her swoon . . .

When the monkey had finished beating the shell out of me, he'd gone after April, but luckily, he hadn't harmed her. Just spooked her a little before fleeing the scene. Once he was gone, April instantly rushed to my side.

" _Donnie, are you hurt?"_

" _Just my pride . . . and my internal organs."_

As if getting pummeled by a mutated lab monkey in front of April hadn't been degrading enough, I then went and passed out for who knows how long. When I finally regained consciousness, April had been right there beside me, watching over me with those big, beautiful, blue eyes of hers.

I recognized her gaze for what it was . . . pity.

" _Come on. Let's get you back to the lair. Can you walk?"_

" _Is there any way to keep some semblance of my dignity intact if I answer 'no'?"_

She'd offered an angelic smile in response to my question, which had slightly dulled the pain racking my entire body, but not so much that I was able to stand on my own. To my mortification, I'd been forced to lean heavily against April's much smaller figure as we hobbled along. She had clearly struggled to support my substantial weight, which made the situation all the more embarrassing. Still, we'd somehow made it all the way back to the lair without having to call my brothers for help. Although by the time we'd gotten there, I'd been about ready to collapse. April had to practically drag me by the shell the last third of the trip.

Yet another thing to be horribly humiliated by.

Some knight in shining armor I am . . .

But at least we're home now. I can finally lie down and try to sleep this awful night off.

We push through the turnstiles and April carefully helps me down the stairs that follow. That's when my immediate older brother is the first to ask the question most likely on all three of my siblings' minds.

"Whoa, what happened?"

I'm pretty sure I'm concussed, because the ringing in my brain nearly drowns out the sound of Raph's voice. I firmly clutch my head with my left hand, but no matter how much I tighten my grip, I just can't get the throbbing to stop. The pain is making it difficult to string my thoughts into something sensible. Luckily, April does the talking for me.

"Donnie got beat up by a lab monkey."

Okay, maybe it's not so lucky April did the talking for me. That's definitely not how I would've put it.

I can't see my how my brothers react to the comment, because my eyes are sealed shut, but it's probably better that way. I also can't hear any kind of reaction from them, which comes as a bit of a surprise. I thought for sure after April told them a monkey did this to me, they'd have some kind of snide comment, but they all remain unnervingly quiet.

A few awkward seconds of silence pass before Leo steps forward and gently takes hold of my left arm. He then drapes my arm over his shoulders, allowing me to shift my weight onto him instead of April. The transition is painful, but I'm grateful that I no longer have to rely on poor April to hold me up.

"April, can you get an ice pack?"

I hear April's footsteps hurriedly head off in the direction of the kitchen. Leo then helps me over to the couch and lowers me down onto the seat. I immediately rest my head on a throw pillow, thankful for the opportunity to finally get off my feet.

"Donnie, 'you gonna be okay?" Leo's voice is warm and full of concern.

"Eh, yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine," I breathe out, trying to put up a brave front.

When I crack my eyes open just a sliver, I see my oldest brother is staring down at me with an expression that seems sincere, but then, it happens.

"In that case . . . "

Only seconds after Leo says this, the sound of laughter fills the air. And not just a little chuckle here and there. All three of my brothers are laughing so hard, they're doubling over and have tears in their eyes. Then, to add insult to injury, they start pointing at me and laugh right in my face. I suddenly feel about two inches tall.

"Y – Y – You got beaten up by a monkey? In front of your girlfriend?" Raph struggles to get the words out because he can barely contain his obvious amusement.

"She's not my girlfriend! And that monkey was a vicious mutant!" My voice comes out shriller than I'd meant it to sound, but my brothers don't seem to notice. That's because they're too busy laughing at me.

Here, I had been duped into believing my brothers were worried about me, but in all actuality, they had been just holding in their laughter until the right moment presented itself.

Lucky me.

Then come the hurtful puns . . .

"Yeah, I'm sure he went bananas."

Their laughter grows even louder after Leo's 'banana' remark. A few seconds later, my oldest brother reels off yet another bad monkey pun.

"Oh – eh, no, no, no, no, no! H – He went ape!"

The more they laugh and belittle me, the smaller I feel. I'm already humiliated beyond words by what had happened. Now, I'm utterly ashamed of myself. I was savagely beaten by a lab monkey in front of April of all people. Don't they think I've suffered enough?

Apparently not . . .

Just as I'm on the verge of losing my battle to keep my composure, April returns from the kitchen with the ice pack she had been asked to retrieve. As soon as she enters the room, Raph's quick to signal my other brothers to stop making fun of me.

"No more monkey puns."

The laughter and the ridiculing taper off, but not before April had heard them mocking me. I can see by the incensed look on her face, she hadn't found it remotely funny.

At least one person doesn't find my pain humorous.

April sits beside me on the couch and pulls me down so that my head's on her lap.

Okay, this isn't so bad.

I can't help but to smile and let out a soft giggle of content as she gently places the ice pack on my forehead and cups her hand around the back of my head. For a moment, all of my cares seem to melt away, but April's voice soon pulls me out of my temporary bliss.

"Are you laughing at him because he's hurt?"

Hearing this, my smile turns down into a frown. The content I was feeling only seconds ago has now been replaced by pain.

My brothers were laughing at me because I'm hurt.

Then, my youngest sibling just has to go and make things even worse.

"No! We were laughing at him because he was hurt by a MONKEY!" Unable to hold back his laughter a second longer, Mikey wraps his arms around his middle and falls over backwards because he's laughing so hard. Leo and Raph can't hold it in any longer, either, and the sounds of laughter once again fill the air.

That's the last straw. That's when I reach my breaking point. It's bad enough that they're laughing at me, but now, they're laughing at me right in front of April.

I push myself up into a sitting position and shift my gaze back and forth from brother to brother to brother.

"H – How could you?"

When they hear the low growl in my voice, Leo and Raph immediately cease their laughter and their eyes widen with shock, while mine narrow with disgust.

Mikey, on the other hand, is still too caught up in laughing his shell off to notice that I'm upset. My youngest brother has always been the last one to catch onto the obvious.

"How could we _not_? A monkey? I mean, come on! That's funny stuff!" Mikey practically gasps out as he wipes away the tears of laughter that have accumulated in the corners of his eyes.

"Stop it! Just! Stop! It!" The bite in my tone makes Mikey's laughter die instantly.

I glare at all three of my brothers, desperately trying and failing to keep my outward appearance from revealing the pain that I'm feeling inside.

"After all the times that I've helped you when you were hurt or sick, _this_ is how you repay me? By laughing at me when _I'm_ injured?" I peer down at my battered figure as I say this. The attack had left me littered from head to toe with cuts and bruises, but instead of helping me, my own brothers had made fun of me, evidently finding my pain quite amusing.

"Have I ever made fun of any of you when you were injured?"

My brothers shake their heads no and their faces fall into frowns to better demonstrate their remorse. I don't let it stop my momentum any. I'm just getting warmed up here.

"Not once! Not even when Leo tripped and fell shell over tea kettle down that fire escape and cut his head open, or when Raph accidentally stuck himself in the leg with his sai, or when Mikey sliced his finger open while trying 'cut the cheese' with a pair of scissors! I don't remember ever laughing at you. What I do remember is taking care of you and trying to make you feel better! Not make you feel worse!"

The truth had obviously hurt, because I see all three of my brothers cringe inside of their shells.

Leo, as expected, is the first to try to make amends, but I hold up a hand to stop him from going any further than, "Donnie, we're – "

It's too late for apologies. Besides, I'm totally entitled to this rant.

"You're my brothers! Why would you treat me like that? Is it because you don't care, or is it because I've always been nothing but a joke to you?" My voice almost fails me by the time I get to the word 'nothing,' but I somehow manage to finish my sentence, although it hadn't sounded nearly as confident as I would've liked. So much for my rant. Here I was, trying to chew them out, and now, I'm just making them feel sorry for me.

Ah, who am I kidding? They already feel sorry for me. I got beat up by a stupid monkey.

A monkey!

"What?" Leo howls in disbelief and his eyeballs look like they're about to burst from their sockets.

Having gotten momentarily distracted by my own thoughts, I have to think back to what I had said to elicit my oldest brother's uncharacteristically dramatic response. It takes me a few seconds, but I soon remember my quote.

" _Is it because you don't care, or is it because I've always been nothing but a joke to you?"_

Okay, now the question is, had Leo screeched 'what' because of the 'you don't care' comment or the 'nothing but a joke to you' remark? Maybe it's a bit of both. Not that it really matters. I already know what I'm going to say next anyway.

"You've always thought less of me, because I'm not as strong of a fighter as any of you are! Admit it! You guys see me as the weakest link, and now, the whole monkey thing just confirms everything. I'm just a constant disappointment to all of you." I have to turn away from my brothers at this point, not just to hide the welling tears in my eyes, but also, because I'm too ashamed to look at any of them.

I just got beat up by a monkey.

They're right. I _am_ the weakest link.

"D, none of that is – " Mikey tries to deny my allegations, but I stop him short. I love my baby brother dearly, but I'm so not in the mood to hear him try to sugar coat everything and pretend like the world's all sunshine and kitties.

"Don't try to deny it! I'm the laughing stock of the family! The three of you just made that abundantly clear!" I snap off, but there's more sadness in my tone than there is anger.

My brothers' frowns deepen and they look to each other for answers. Clearly, none of them have a clue what to do or say.

Figures . . .

"Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have your own brothers make fun of you because you're the pathetic one? No, you don't. Because you guys don't know what it feels like to be the letdown of the ninja clan, do you?" Now my voice is barely coming out above a whisper. All of a sudden, I don't feel so good. I fold my arms across my waist and try in vain to comfort myself. Raph's words from earlier repeat in my head.

" _Y – Y – You got beaten up by a monkey? In front of your girlfriend?"_

I look over at April and see that she's looking at me with pity. _Again_!

She feels sorry for me. Oh, now if that isn't the icing on the cake . . .

Could this night possibly get any worse?

Now, as the so-called genius of the family, I should really know better than to ask something like that. Even in my head.

Of course things can get worse. And so, they did.

Despite my best efforts to stop my tears from falling, I suddenly feel several drops make it past my defenses. What my mask fails to absorb runs down my face and drips off my chin.

That's just great.

Look at me, April. I'm crying because I got my shell handed to me by a monkey and my brothers laughed at me. I bet you're just dying to go out with my now. Am I right?

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I'm quick to wipe the tears away with the back of my hand, but not before everyone sees them.

Now they're _all_ looking at me with pity.

Aw, come on!

Seeing their 'Oh poor Donnie, he's so fragile' stares makes anger start to burn in my gut.

"It's like none of you even care about me or how I feel!" A hint of bitterness comes through in my tone, which apparently rubs my hotheaded brother the wrong way.

Real shocker there. What doesn't rub him the wrong way?

"Don't be stupid, Donnie! You know that's not true!"

Leo flashes Raph a glare before responding in much gentler fashion. My oldest brother has always been the most diplomatic one of us. Unfortunately, he's oftentimes the most belittling one, as well.

"Of course we care about you, Donnie."

The words sound rehearsed, like he's just saying them because he's obligated to as the eldest brother and team leader. They're about as believable as Mikey claiming, 'I didn't do it!'

"Oh, yeah! Because laughing at someone when they're hurt is an obvious sign of affection. I'm sure you were trying to show me just how much you care by mocking me and kicking me when I was already down. Gee, thanks, Leo!" While I pour out my growing frustration in verbal form, my eyes threaten to pour out my pain in liquid form again.

And the award for the worst ninja goes to . . .

I seal my lips tightly shut, trying to prevent myself from falling apart in front on an audience, but regardless of my best efforts, I'm losing the war to keep my emotions in check. I hate the fact that I had already allowed my brothers to see that they had brought me to tears, but what I hate even more is that I had allowed April to see it. Like she didn't already think I was completely hopeless.

Leo must've noticed my distress, because he reaches out for my hand in a blatant attempt to console me.

I can't explain why, but I instantly take offense to this.

Batting the incoming hand away, I push myself up off the couch in one fluid motion and take a few clumsy steps backwards. The sudden movement hurts a lot more than I had anticipated and I have to grit my teeth for a moment before I can think somewhat straight again.

"I don't want your pity!" I yell out the words and point a forefinger accusingly at my brothers. The three of them flinch, taken aback by my sudden outburst. Frankly, I'm a little shocked by it myself. I hadn't actually meant to yell. It had just come out that way.

Maybe I'm not thinking so straight after all.

"Donnie . . . "

Throughout my entire tirade, April had remained unusually silent, but now that I'm on the verge of blowing a gasket, she finds her voice. She's looking up at me with those oversized blue eyes that I can't help but to stare into and I notice they're filled with sadness and concern. Unlike my brothers, I actually believe the concern in her eyes and it suffices to make me feel even worse.

"You should probably sit back down. You don't look so good."

I have to bite my tongue in order to keep myself from making an unpleasant comment. April doesn't deserve that. She's the only one in the room who hasn't humiliated me.

"I – I'm fine, April. I just need to be alone for a while." As I say this, I force what I'm sure is a watery smile for April's sake, and then, I start backing towards my lab. I can sense that my composure is on the brink of failure. If I don't get out of here pronto, I'm going to break down right in front of them. I can't let them see that. It would just give my brothers yet another reason to laugh at me.

I'm trying to be subtle about my escape, but it's rather hard to be subtle when you're walking with a pronounced limp. I look down at my body and shudder at the sight. I'm covered in ugly bruises, welts, cuts, and filth. It looks as though I've been dragged through the sewers after being used as a punching bag for weeks. Well, maybe weeks is slightly exaggerated. More like a couple of days . . .

As I'm about to get lost in thought, I spy Leo rising up off the couch and slowly approaching me with his hands held up to show submission. Immediately, my defenses come up and I hold my own hands out in front of me as if to protect myself from my brother's advances.

"April's right, Donnie. You don't look so good."

Again with the 'you don't look so good?' What? Are they purposely trying to make me feel like crap? Seriously!

"I said I'm fine! All I want is to be left alone, okay?" My response is sort of a half shout/half whine. It's as if my own tone was somehow contradicting itself. I'm not even sure which feeling coursing through me is the strongest right now. My anger, my despair, my exasperation, or my shame. It's like my emotions are working in tandem against me and turning me into some sort of crazy turtle. I don't even have control over my own actions anymore. I'm just lashing out with no purpose at this point.

So this is how Raph feels all the time . . .

"Donnie – " Leo tries to reason with me again, but I cut him off once more.

"I don't want to hear it, Leo!"

Now, the rest of them get up off the couch. This makes me feel as though I'm being surrounded. All the more reason to retreat into my lab.

"Come on, Donnie. Don't get your shell all bent out of shape."

Though Raph's the one doing the speaking, my eyes remain fixed on Leo. He keeps moving towards me and it's making me nervous.

"I told you! I just want to be left alone!" By the time I finish the words, I've backed all the way up to the stairs that lead to my lab.

Just a few feet more . . .

Leo keeps looking at me with an expression that suggests he knows what I'm planning, which makes my heart start thumping wildly inside of my chest. If he suspects that I'm trying to lock myself up inside of my lab again, he's going to try to stop me. I can't let that happen.

"Donnie, please! You're hurt."

It takes every last ounce of willpower I have not to start shouting obscenities after hearing Leo say these words.

Yeah, I'm hurt! Isn't that what I've been trying to tell you this whole time?

Oh for the love of science!

Leo then edges even closer to me, which sets me off.

"Stay away from me! Haven't you done enough already?" My voice has officially reached seismic level. I'm sure that anyone walking the streets above the lair probably heard me loud and clear.

I start my backwards ascent up the stairs, watching my oldest brother's every movement like a hawk. I have to be ready to make a break for it in the event that he attempts to stop me from getting to my lab.

"Donnie, we all care about you very much. Why don't you come back over to the couch and we can talk about this?" As Leo tries to negotiate me down from the ledge of the steps, he reaches a hand out towards me, motioning for me to take it.

That's when my father unexpectedly saves my shell.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sensei's booming voice causes everyone to turn towards him.

Everyone except me . . .

Master Splinter's arrival provides just the distraction I need. As my brothers stare up at our father, who's now standing in the Dojo entrance, I spin towards my lab and hobble inside, promptly locking the doors shut. I then lean against the closed doors and slide down to the floor so I can pull my knees into my chest.

"Donnie! Open the door!"

Hearing Leo's voice call out to me and the subsequent knocking against the doors makes me pull myself into an even tighter ball. Then, the knocking turns into pounding, followed by Raph and Mikey's voices.

"Open the door, now, Brainiac!"

"Let us in, bro."

I bury my face into my knees and listen to the conversation taking place outside of my lab.

"Would one of you _please_ tell me what is going on here?" Judging by my father's stern tone, he's none too thrilled with us abruptly putting an end to his nightly meditation session. All the more reason to stay hidden away in my lab. Master Splinter doesn't take lightly to being interrupted when he's lost in meditation.

"Oh man! This is bad! This is really, really bad! We screwed things up, big time, Master Splinter! Donnie . . . he went topside with April and he got his shell waxed by some lab monkey and we totally laughed at him 'cause it seemed funny at the time, but it's not really all that funny anymore because D got all upset 'cause apparently he's like super sensitive about getting picked on for getting beat up by monkeys – maybe it's like a phobia or something – you know, like how some people are afraid to go on – " My baby brother probably would have rambled on for another half hour or so if not for Leo mercifully stopping him in the middle of what was most likely going to be the longest run-on sentence in history.

"What Mikey is _trying_ to say, Sensei, is that Donnie got attacked by a mutant, and instead of helping him treat his injuries, we laughed at him and hurt his feelings. Now he's locked himself inside of his lab."

See? I told you Leo was the most diplomatic one.

"Yeah, he's totally overreacting!"

And Raph's always been the most inconsiderate one . . .

"I see."

Now I'm thanking my lucky stars that I'm on the opposite side of the lab doors as my family, because no good ever comes from Master Splinter saying, 'I see.' In all likelihood, there's an impossible to read expression on my father's face while he's standing there, just staring at my brothers and stroking his beard in a blatant intimidation tactic.

A long pause follows my father's words, but I'm sure it's not because he actually needs the extra time to contemplate what he's going to say. It's because he wants to make my brothers uncomfortable with the awkward silence. I can just picture the whole scene in my head. He's toying with them. I've seen it many times before. My father is not only a master of Ninjutsu, but he's a master of mind games as well.

"So what you are telling me is that you find your brother's suffering amusing?"

Ooh, that must've hurt. I bet the looks on my brothers' faces are priceless. I kind of wish I could see them.

"N – No, of course not!" As always, Leo is quick to deny the accusation. I notice that Raph and Mikey remain abnormally quiet. I'm guessing that the two of them are essentially throwing Leo to the wolves . . . or in this case, to the rat.

"Oh? I am sorry. Perhaps I misunderstood. I thought you said that your brother has locked himself inside of his laboratory because you laughed at his pain. Was I mistaken?" The sarcasm lacing Master Splinter's words is sheer perfection and I'm half-tempted to applaud.

My father never misses anything.

"No, Sensei. You heard right."

The corners of my mouth coil up into a slight smirk over hearing my oldest brother admit to his wrongdoings.

"Then I suggest that the three of you apologize to your brother for your actions and find a way to make it up to him. April, perhaps you could join me in the kitchen for some tea. I believe Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo have their work cut out for them, because they will not be allowed to leave the lair until they patch things up with Donatello. Am I understood?"

Master Splinter for the win!

My brothers then mumble "Hai, Sensei" in defeat, but I can barely here it. I'm pretty sure they're now talking amongst themselves, but I can't quite make out what they're saying anymore.

A few seconds later, I hear the sound of knuckles banging against the lab doors once again, but I just keep my face burrowed into my knees.

"Donnie, open up! We need to talk!" Leo's voice is somehow demanding and gentle at the same time.

"Yeah, dude! Don't leave us hangin' like this, bro!" Mikey's voice is neither demanding nor gentle. It's just – Well, Mikey-like.

"Go away!" My instructions seem very clear and concise to me, but my brothers still fail to follow them.

Typical . . .

"Please, Donnie," Leo pleads, and it's almost comical hearing my normally confident brother sound so needy.

Then, Mikey chimes in.

"Pleeeeeeeeease let us in, D! We said we're sorry." The word 'please' drags on for a full four seconds. Almost long enough for me to get bored, but Mikey's claim that they had apologized instantly gets me all fired up again.

"No! You didn't!" Although my response is slightly muffled by my kneepads, it's still more than loud enough to get my point across.

"Oh . . . right. Well, we're sorry now."

The belated apology causes my sarcasm to come out in full force. "You _are_? Well, then I guess all is forgiven."

Unfortunately, my use of sarcasm goes right over Mikey's head.

"Did you hear that, Leo? Donnie forgives us!"

Knowing my siblings as well as I think I do, I'm willing to wager that my youngest brother is currently pumping his fists in victory while my oldest brother is rolling his eyes with exasperation.

"He was being sarcastic, Mikey."

There's the sound of them mumbling again and I notice that one of my brothers' voices is missing from their conversation. It then dawns on me that one brother's voice has been absent for the last minute or so.

Aw, sewer pickles!

The garage door! I left the garage door open!

I lift my head up just in time to see my hotheaded brother is about to pounce. I quickly push myself up to my feet and attempt to run away, but I only make it a few inches before Raph lunges forward and clasps his arms around my abdomen so that my own arms are trapped at my sides and my shell is pinned against his plastron. I kick and writhe about in his hold, but his grip is too strong.

"Let go of me, you Neanderthal!"

Raph lets out an arrogant snort in response and just squeezes tighter as I continue to squirm.

"I got him, guys!"

That's what he thinks.

I shift my weight to one leg so I can swing my other leg up behind me and kick Raph right in the – Well, below the belt. As my foot hits its mark, I hear an "ooomph" sound come out of my immediate older brother and he instantly releases his hold on me so he can hunch over in pain.

"Nice one, Don," is all that Raph manages to wheeze out. He's clearly struggling to find enough air to speak.

I almost feel bad for him.

Almost . . .

"Serves you right, shell for brains!"

Raph's head shoots back up and I see that certain psychotic gleam in his eyes that tells me I'm seriously going to regret my unsportsmanlike conduct.

"Now, Raph, let's be reasonable here." My hands instinctively go up to act as a shield, but they're useless to block the unstoppable force known as Hamato Raphael.

My brother lunges forward again, this time tackling me to the ground.

The pain from the impact is instantaneous and all five of my senses momentarily shut down. At least I think I'm only out of it for a moment. When you're in excruciating pain, one's perception of time tends to get a bit distorted.

Once my vision starts working again, I see that I'm splayed out on the floor and Raph is leaning over me. The previously crazy look in his eyes has been replaced by something akin to guilt. I'm still trying to get my bearings back when Raph suddenly reaches a hand out towards me. For some reason, this spooks me and I shrink away as my brother's hand draws nearer.

"Aw, Donnie, I'm – "

"D – Don't touch me!"

That's when my other two siblings enter the lab and see me trembling in fear below Raph. In an instant, all three of my brothers are hovering over me, much the same way April did after I'd gotten shellacked by that demented chimpanzee.

Ugh! Maybe I should've just let that dumb monkey put me out of my misery.

When I look up, I see Mikey's already big eyes widen in obvious shock while Leo's eyes narrow into a glare that he fixes on our hotheaded brother.

Sometimes, mixing hydrogen sulfide and nitric acid together produces a less volatile reaction than mixing my two older brothers together. They don't exactly have good chemistry.

"What happened, Raph?" Leo's lips somehow come to a point, if that's at all possible.

"Donnie's hurt."

Thank you, Captain Obvious! I'm about to make a biting remark, when Leo beats me to the punch.

"Well, yeah! But I meant why is he cowering on the floor?"

I cringe at Leo's usage of the word 'cowering,' but realize that it's apropos.

"I kind of tackled him."

"Kind of? How exactly do you ' _kind of_ ' tackle someone?" In a strange turn of events, my oldest brother's response is sarcastic. Well, sarcastic for Leo. Evidently, Raph and I must be rubbing off on him.

"Well, he started it! He kicked me in the – in the place you shouldn't _ever_ kick someone! It was a cheap shot!"

"So you attacked him when he was hurt? Real mature, Raph."

While my older brothers are busy exchanging verbal blows, I try to take advantage of the temporary distraction and crawl away, but I forgot about the Mikey factor. Sometimes, I think my baby brother's a lot more perceptive than we all give him credit for. He grabs hold of the back of my arm, thwarting my escape plans and drawing everyone's attention back on me.

Frustrated to no end, I yank my arm free so I can draw my knees into my chest again and hide behind my bruised legs like they can protect me.

Why can't my brothers just leave me alone?

I close my eyes and pull my legs even tighter up against myself, refusing to let my brother's break through my self-inflicted sphere.

"Donnie, please. We're sorry we hurt you." I hear the remorse in Leo's voice, but I'm not the least bit convinced by it. Not after what happened earlier.

"Go away. Just – Just leave me alone." Even though I try to growl out these words, they come out sounding more like a pathetic whimper.

Perfect! Just perfect.

My eyes are still closed at this point, but I can tell that my brothers are moving closer. Their breathing is getting louder and louder.

"Let us help you, Donnie. You're injured. Let us take care of _you_ for once."

Before I can tell my oldest brother just where to go, I'm unexpectedly pulled into a crushing embrace. Naturally, I assume it's Mikey doing the crushing, because everyone knows that he's the resident 'hugger' of the family. Plus, he's the only who doesn't have enough common sense not to squeeze someone when they're a walking bruise. But when I slowly pry my eyelids apart, I'm stunned to see it's Leo who's latched onto me.

This somehow makes the situation all the more unbearable.

I try with all of my might to get away, but Leo's iron grip doesn't falter. If anything, my insistent wiggling just seems to make my oldest brother cling to me that much tighter.

When I realize I'm incapable of writhing out of Leo's grasp, I accidentally let a frustrated sob slip out. That's when Leo pulls my face against his plastron and rests his chin on top of my head. Then, comes another pair of strong arms from the other side and I'm suddenly sandwiched between my two older brothers. Escape is clearly an impossibility now, but I still attempt to squirm free nevertheless.

"S – Stop it. Go away. I – I can take care of myself." My voice cracks like thin glass, as does my resolve. With each passing second, my resistance becomes less and less, and soon, I find myself leaning heavily against Leo's chest.

A third pair of arms joins the circle and I can hear Mikey sniffling in my ear slit.

I seal my eyes tightly shut again and try to steady my breathing.

This is _so_ embarrassing.

What am I? Like five?

"Just let us help you, little brother," Raph says in a tone that's almost unrecognizable coming from him. He actually sounds . . . concerned? Who would've ever thought the hothead was capable of such a feat?

I lift my head up to see that all three of my brothers are staring down at me with apologetic expressions.

Did I mention this is embarrassing?

Just as I'm about to shield my face from view once again, my brothers release their hold on me and back away a couple of feet, presumably to give me some breathing room. It's either that or maybe they're feeling a little embarrassed, too.

Leo's the first to break the freshly fallen silence between us.

"We should've never laughed at you, Donnie."

"Yeah, D. We should've totally taken care of you like you're always taking care of us. Like that one time I ate those two funny looking pizzas that we found in that garbage dumpster and I puked for three days straight?" Mikey's entire face lights up with a huge grin, as if he's excited by the memory he had just drudged up, whereas just the thought of it makes me queasy.

"How could I forget?" To this day, the smell still haunts me . . .

"Well, you stayed with me the whole time I was sick. You even flushed the toilet when I was too weak to lift my arms up anymore. And you brought me crackers and read me comics and wrapped me up in blankets when I got the chills. If not for you, I probably would've died."

"Died? That seems a bit exaggerated."

"Nuh-uh, brah. You totally saved my life."

Okay, I hardly think flushing the toilet, providing stale crackers, reading outdated comic books, and tossing a couple of blankets over someone while they hurl their guts out qualifies as life-saving measures, but I don't bother to argue. And even if I wanted to dispute the claim, I'm not given enough time to, because Leo offers up another memory.

"And what about that time when Sensei came down with that bad case of bronchitis when we were little? You were the only one who had any idea how to take care of him. If you wouldn't have been there, I don't know what we would've done."

I see where this is going. They're just trying to relieve their guilty consciences.

Well, I'm not falling for it.

"I just used the same remedies that Master Splinter always used on us when we were sick. Any of you could've done that."

I'm tempted to pat myself on the shell for how well I downplayed that one. Then, Leo goes and bursts my bubble by complimenting me again.

"Donnie, we were four. The rest of us completely panicked and didn't have a clue how to help him, but you knew exactly what to do and nursed him back to health."

I guess Leo does make a valid point. If my brothers would've been the ones in charge of taking care of Sensei, they probably would've made things a lot worse. I seem to remember Mikey suggesting something along the lines of using the 'vacuum to suck the gunk outta him.'

I'm about to make a snarky comment, when Raph takes his turn at trying to cheer me up.

This ought to be good . . .

"And do you remember when Leo busted his wrist while he was trying to build his own 'Space Heroes' rocket?"

"I – I really don't think we need to bring that up again." Not surprisingly, Leo is quick to try to stop Raph from continuing, but equally not surprisingly, Raph just blows him off.

"Sure we do, Fearless. You remember you were crying like a – "

"I wasn't crying!"

"The shell you weren't!"

"My eyes were just watering because of all the smoke!" If I had a nickel for every time I heard that line . . .

"Sure they were," Raph says in his usual deadpan fashion and his mouth twists into a cocky smirk. He then crosses his arms over his plastron as he continues on with what he has to say. "The point is, Donnie knew just what to do. He put your wrist back in place and made you that cast out of – What was it made out of again?"

"Duct tape and bread dough!" What my baby brother lacks in accuracy he more than makes up for in enthusiasm.

"Actually, it was made out of gauze and plaster."

"There! You see? None of us would've ever thought to do something like that. Can you imagine what Leo's arm would look like if Mikey and I had to fix it?"

Now there's a frightening thought. They probably would've amputated the limb . . .

A hand suddenly squeezing my shoulder prevents me from coming up with a clever comeback to Raph's question. I look up to see Leo staring back at me and his grip around my shoulder softens a bit as he speaks.

"What we're trying to say, Donnie, is that you're always here for us. We should've been there for you. We were wrong to laugh at you earlier."

"Yeah, bro. And all that stuff you said about us thinking you're weak and a joke. None of us have ever thought something like that about you. You're the smartest guy I've ever met. You're like scary smart, dude. No lie. You're constantly saving our shells."

"Hey, as much as I hate to admit it, Mikey and Leo are right."

We all turn and look at Raph in wide-eyed amazement. Did he seriously just say that Mikey and Leo were right?

"Yeah, I said it. So what? No need to make a big stink about it." Raph shrugs his shoulders and scowls at us for a moment or two before continuing in a far less gruff manner than normal. "Anyway, you're _always_ taking care of us, Donnie. And you can forget about all those stupid notions about you being pathetic or a disappointment. You've never let us down, little brother. Not ever." As Raph says this, he playfully rubs the top of my head with a closed hand, which unexpectedly makes me flinch in pain.

You know, for a little while there, I almost forgot all about that monkey beating me to a pulp. At least up until Raph went and ground his knuckles against one of my many contusions.

"Ouch."

"It's okay, Donnie. We've got you. And we're gonna do whatever it takes to make you feel better. You're in good hands. Right, guys?" The words no sooner leave Leo's mouth when he releases his grip on my shoulder so his hand is free to pull out a roll of first aid tape and bandages from his belt. Mikey nods eagerly, and then, produces a washcloth and a bottle of antiseptic, while Raph unsheathes one of his sais, presumably intending to use it as a makeshift pair of scissors. Apparently, they had come prepared.

I shift my eyes back and forth between my three grinning brothers and finally let a smile slip past my defenses, indicating my consent.

Sure, my brothers may not always know the right things to do or say, but no matter what, they'll always take care of me in their own special way.

And somehow, just knowing that, I already feel a little bit better . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: It literally took me over a year to finish this Shell Shot. I've rewritten it three times now. First, as a multi-chapter story, then as a third-person one-shot, and now, this first person version. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that all of you liked the final product. If you did, please favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots.' I would really love to know if you are enjoying this collection of short stories. Thank you very much for reading. ;) CJ**_


	12. Always Knows (Creeping Doom One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'Always Knows' Summary: When Mikey's hurting, there's one brother who always knows what's best for him. Note: This one-shot takes place after the episode 'The Creeping Doom.'**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I know this is usually the day I post an update for 'Lost in the Fight,' but I wasn't able to get the chapter ready in time (it's a long one), so I decided to post my latest Shell Shot. I based this short story off a writing prompt from an anonymous Tumblr. The person asked me for a Mikey and Donnie story with the line "Do you want a hug?" Well, here's what I came up with.**_

 _ **Thank you for the suggestion, my anonymous friend, and thanks so much to everyone for reading my stories. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Always Knows**

When I walk up to the open lab doors and see Donnie tap-tapping away at his keyboard, I immediately start to have second thoughts about bugging him. He gets kind of grumpy when you interrupt him while he's working. Not as grumpy as he gets when you break stuff or mess up one of his experiments, but grumpy enough to make me think this isn't such a great idea.

Maybe I should come back later.

I'm about to retreat when I hear, "Well, are you coming in or not, Mikey?"

Aw, sewer apples!

I knew I should've stayed in the pit. Now that Donnie's spotted me, I can't very well walk away. Well, I could, but that would make things pretty awkward. Actually, things are already awkward, aren't they? I'm standing outside of the lab like a creepy stalker.

"H – Hey, D. How's it goin'?" I try to act all chillaxed as I enter the lab, but I can totally see from the skeptical look on my big bro's face, he knows something's up. That's because Donnie knows everything. No lie! He's super-smart like that Einstein guy or Chuck Norris.

"Something wrong, Mikey?"

My head says, "Yeah," but my mouth says, "Nah, I was just checkin' to see what you were up to, yo."

My brother's eyes narrow and I'm not sure if it's because of what I said or something on his computer screen. Or maybe he got something in his eye! Dude, I hate it when that happens.

"Mikey." Donnie's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, as if he knew my mind was starting to wander. Somehow, he can always tell when I'm getting distracted.

"Yeah, D?"

"Spill it." Those are two words I never thought I'd hear come out of my brainy brother's mouth while I'm standing in his lab. Especially after what had happened last night. My 'spilling it' had nearly cost Donnie his smarts.

I stare down at my older brother and see his eyes shifting back and forth between me and his computer. I'm willing to bet a stack of comics that he's working on that serum for Karai. He's been working on it nonstop for like weeks. I wish he'd figure it out already so we can hang out again. I miss him, big time.

While Donnie keeps doing his Donnie-thing, I walk up beside him and lean against his desk. I then let out a long, slightly exaggerated sigh before finally saying what's on my mind. Sort of . . .

"Raph called me a shell brain again."

This makes Donnie lift his head up for a couple of seconds and he gives me a look like he's waiting for something. What that something is, I'm not sure.

"Mikey, if you came into my lab every time Raph called you a bad name, you'd be in here more often than me. There's obviously more to it than that. So what's _really_ on your mind?"

Holy chalupa!

How the heck does D do that? How does he always know when I'm hiding something from him?

He really _IS_ a genius! It's either that or I'm really predictable . . .

Nuh-uh. It's got to be the genius one, because there's nothing predictable about Dr. Prankenstein.

Booyakasha!

Donnie clears his throat to let me know he's still waiting for an answer.

Oops! My bad.

Now normally, I don't have any problem saying what I'm thinking, but at the moment, it feels like my tongue is swelling up like one of those fish that puff up like a balloon. You know the ones. What are they called again? A blowfish or puffyfish or something like that . . . Anyway, my point is, I'm at a loss for words here, which doesn't happen very often. Usually my brothers are always complaining because I don't ever shut up.

I look down at the floor and realize that I'm twisting 'Stubby' into the concrete. That's what I do when I'm nervous. I twist my toe into the ground. Well, that and bite my lip, press my fingertips together, swallow really hard, rub the back of my neck, shrink inside my shell, break out into a cold sweat, giggle uncontrollably – the list goes on and on. Let's just say I get nervous _a lot_.

"I, uh, guess I'm still just a little upset about last night is all."

"What about it?" Donnie leans back in his chair and stares up at me, which tells me that I now have his full attention. It isn't that D wasn't listening to me before. I'm sure he was, because he's totally awesome at multitasking. It's just that now he's actually looking at me rather than his computer.

I'm thinking I should probably respond at this point, huh?

Wait! What was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Last night! Okay, here goes nothing.

"Well, when I accidentally splashed you with that brain stuff and you started to get all – you know . . . "

"Cerebrally impaired?" I'm glad Donnie finishes my sentence for me, because I seriously had no clue how to end it without sounding like a jerk.

"Yeah, that. After that happened, everyone kept making comments about how you were even dumber than me." And by everyone, I actually mean Raph.

Donnie's expression changes from mildly interested to majorly worried.

"You're not dumb, Mikey. If that's what you're thinking."

Remember those nervous habits I was talking about earlier? Well, I just started doing several of them, including pushing my fingertips together and sweating like crazy.

"Sure, you say that now, but last night you made that 'Mikey-level embarrassing' comment. And then, you made that crack about finally understanding the way I feel all the time. It kind of made me feel bad."

To tell the truth, there's no 'kind of' about it. It _totally_ made me feel bad.

I hang my head down and let out another sigh, or maybe it's more of a whimper this time. I didn't realize that saying the words out loud would hurt my heart so much. Feeling sad really blows.

"I was only teasing, Mikey. You know that, right? Raph says that sort of stuff all the time and you never let it get to you." As Donnie says this, he gets up out of his chair and stands in front of me so we're face to face. I can see that he feels bummed out about what I said.

So do I . . .

"Yeah, I know. But sometimes it's hard to ignore all that stuff you guys say to me. I – I guess when someone keeps saying something to you over and over again, you kinda sorta get to thinkin' maybe it's true, even if it might not be. You know what I'm sayin'?"

As I start chewing on my lower lip like it's a wad of gum, Donnie gets that 'aha' look on his face. The one that he always gets when he figures out what's _really_ bothering me.

"Is it that, or is it because _I_ was the one who said those things?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's a little bit of both." I shrug my shoulders, and then, let them droop down as low as they'll go. That's when I notice Donnie's shoulders droop down, too.

"Hey, I'm really sorry, Mikey. I was just kidding around, I swear. And if I would've known my comments were gonna make you feel this way, I would've never said what I did. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, bro."

In response to D's heartfelt apology, I stick my bottom lip out to make a classic pouty face, knowing that always works like a charm on my big bros. Then, for added effect, I work up some tears and bat my eyes at him.

My brother, being the genius that he is, probably realizes that I'm overacting a little, but he plays along anyway.

Good old Donnie . . .

"So . . . How can I make it up to you, Mikey?"

Though I'm trying with all my shell to keep my frown in place, I can feel a huge smirk coming on.

"I don't know, D. It would take an awful lot to make me feel better. There's only one surefire cure I can think of."

A knowing grin spreads across Donnie's face.

"Do you want a hug?"

Aw, yeah!

As I nod my head and smile from ear to ear, Donnie wraps his arms around me and squeezes tight.

My big bro always knows just what I need.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I hope you liked my first ever Mikey POV story. Thank you once again to the anonymous Tumblr who requested this Shell Shot. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you enjoyed it.**_

 _ **As always, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you want to see more of these short stories. I would absolutely love to know if you like them.**_

 _ **Oh, and to all of the 'Lost in the Fight' readers out there, I will be back next week with the new chapter. C=**_

 _ **Thank you so much for reading, everyone. ;) CJ**_


	13. Like a Father (Scroll of the Demodragon)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This one-shot takes place shortly after the episode 'Scroll of the Demodragon.' If you have not watched that episode yet, I recommend watching it before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Like a Father' Summary:**_ _**Being a leader is hard. Being a parent is even harder . . .**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm finally back with a brand-new 'Shell Shot.' I can't believe it's been nearly three months since I posted a new one of these. So sorry for the long wait.**_

 _ **Moving right along . . . After posting 'Change of Heart' several months back, I had a guest reviewer named Gina suggest that I write a 'Shell Shot' where Leo is trying to adjust to his new role as a father figure and I loved the idea. I decided to make this story similar to the format I used in my one-shot, 'Grief' (chapter 7 of 'TMNT Shell Shots'), so this is a continuation of that story.**_

 _ **Thank you to Gina for making this suggestion. I hope you like what I came up with . . .**_

 _ **As always, thanks so much for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Like a Father**

I'd decided to call off patrol for the evening after we'd pretty much gotten our shells handed to us by Kavaxas the night before.

Demodragon: one, turtles: zip.

The encounter had done a real number on all of us. Let's just say our bruises had bruises and leave it at that. No need to go into the gory details.

Anyway, I thought my brothers and I could use a night to recuperate.

There I go thinking again . . .

Unfortunately, as good as my intentions were, a night off from fighting was not in the cards.

I should've known better than to assume we could get a moment's peace. It's always something . . .

The good news is, at least it's not the enemy we're battling with this time. The bad news is, we're fighting with each other. Sometimes, I'd much rather take on the whole Foot clan than argue with my own brothers. To be honest, the Foot are a lot easier to deal with . . .

Sure, it's quiet right now, but there's a storm brewing, and that storm's name is Hamato Raphael.

I bury my face in my hands when I think back to the moment that my baby brother had come bursting into my room to announce that Raph was 'gone.' I had been lost in meditation when Mikey had thrown my door open, nearly making me jump out of my shell.

Is it too much to ask that my brothers knock?

Apparently . . .

Well, by the time Mikey had made it to my bedroom, he was already pretty spun up.

" _Leo! Leo! You gotta help me, bro!"_

" _Why? What's going on, Mikey?"_

" _Raph's gone and it's all my fault!"_

" _What do you mean 'gone?'"_

" _Uh, he left the lair. What else would I mean by 'gone'?"_

" _That – That's not what I was asking, Mikey. I meant what did – You know what? Nevermind. Just tell me what happened."_

" _Well, I wanted to watch 'Chris Bradford's 2 Ruff Krew,' but Raph was being a real jerk about it. He wouldn't hand over the TV remote, so when I went to wrestle it away from him, I kinda sorta tore the cover off his super rare 'Corps Cadavres' comic."_

" _Kinda sorta?"_

" _Okay, okay! I totally tore the cover off, and then, he pretty much wigged out. You know how he gets. The veins were like bulging out of his forehead and he started talking in Greek or something, 'cause I didn't understand half of what he said. And what I did understand wasn't good. Like not fit for PG good. You know what I'm sayin'? I'm pretty sure that some of the stuff he – "_

" _Get to the point, Mikey."_

" _Oh, yeah. Sorry, dude. Anyway, after he got done ranting, he just stormed off. I've called him like ten times, but he won't answer. Do you think he's all right?"_

" _He's fine, Mikey. I'm sure he's just blowing off some steam."_

" _But what if he's hurt? Or what if he ran into that Demodragon dude or something? Or what if he got attacked by rabid squirrels and he can't answer his phone 'cause they chewed all his fingers off?"_

" _Yeah, I'm pretty sure he didn't get attacked by squirrels, Mikey."_

" _You don't know that, dude!"_

" _No, I guess not, but I'm fairly confident Raph could hold his own against a squirrel."_

" _Even a rabid one?"_

" _Yes, even a rabid one. Why don't you get some sleep, Mikey? If it'll make you feel better, I'll stay up and wait for Raph to come home."_

" _Thanks, bro."_

" _No problem, Mikey. I'll see you in the morning."_

After my conversation with my youngest brother, I headed straight for the kitchen to wait for Raph. My hotheaded brother always stops by kitchen when he gets home late, either to get an ice pack for whatever battle wound(s) he may have acquired and/or to grab a quick bite to eat.

Yet another half hour passes by before Raph comes home and proves me right. About twenty-five seconds after I hear him return to the lair, he comes trudging into the kitchen and heads straight for the fridge. He doesn't even notice me. Or maybe he did and he just chose to ignore my presence.

"Where have you been?"

Judging by the fact that Raph isn't the least bit startled by the sound of my voice, my 'ignoring me' guess was dead on.

Nice . . .

"I was just hanging out with Casey. No need to get your shell all bent out of shape." Clearly not interested in anything I have to say, Raph shrugs his shoulders indifferently, and then, yanks the refrigerator door open with way more force than seems necessary. He practically rips the rusty door right off the hinges. This is part of the reason why Donnie is constantly having to fix things around the lair. Between Raph and Mikey, it's a wonder anything works around here.

As Raph searches through the limited contents on the shelves of the fridge, I stand up to better demonstrate my growing irritation.

"You've been gone for hours, Raph! You could've at least called or texted someone!" I'm trying my best to keep my voice low, so as not to wake up my other brothers, but it's hard to stay quiet when talking to Raph. He tends to bring out the worst in me.

Forgetting all about whatever he had been looking for inside of the refrigerator, Raph straightens up his back and turns towards me. At first, he appears to be amused by what I said, as if he had assumed I was joking around, but when he sees that I'm totally serious, a look of annoyance washes over his face.

"Are you freakin' kidding me?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" My brother should know me well enough by now to realize that I don't kid around about my family's safety. "You stormed out of the lair without telling anyone where you were going! What if something would've happened to you, huh? From now on, I expect you to check in and let us know where you're at if you're gonna be out late!"

"Yeah, well, that's not gonna happen, Fearless." There's an arrogant smirk on his face that instantly rubs me the wrong way.

"And why is that?" The snippiness in my response betrays my already thin patience, whereas the snippiness in Raph's response betrays his complete lack of patience.

"Because I said so."

"That's not a real answer, Raph."

"Just drop it, Leo." Raph's voice is dangerously low. The uncharacteristic quietness is strangely more threatening than his actual words themselves, but I'm not about to be bullied into backing down. Raph's intimidation tactics may scare Mikey and Donnie into silence, but they won't work on me.

"Why? Why should I drop it? Why do you have to be so difficult all the time?

"I'm warning you, Leo. Don't push it!"

"Well, I wouldn't have to push it if you'd just listen to me for once! Why do you refuse to do anything I say?"

In lieu of a verbal response, Raph crosses his arms in a huff and narrows his eyes into angry slits.

This only ticks me off all the more.

"Answer me!"

"Why should I?"

"Because I said so!" I realize it's a little juvenile to throw Raph's own words back in his face, but I'm kind of at my wit's end here.

"You can't tell me what to do, Leo! You're not my father!"

Ouch!

I knew it was an eventuality that I would hear something along that line from one of my brothers, but so soon? Hearing the actual words 'you're not my father' spoken aloud stings more than a cold slap to the face, but I can't let Raph see just how much his comment rattled me. If I show my confrontational brother any sign of weakness, he'll go right for the jugular.

"No, I'm not, but now that Master Splinter is – " For a moment, the rest of that sentence gets trapped in my throat, but I'm able to force the words out before Raph notices my voice temporarily quit on me. "No longer here, _I'm_ the head of this household."

Please don't say 'says who?' Please don't say 'says who?'

"So what? That entitles you to tell me what to do and when to do it?"

Well, at least he didn't say 'says who?' Although, the alternative's not a whole lot better . . .

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Raph." In response to this comment, my brother lets out a resentful snort and rolls his eyes, but I pretend not to notice. "I'm just trying to keep this family together."

"And here I thought you were just trying to be a nag."

I can't help but wonder what I've done to deserve this. I mean, I know I'm not perfect, but I've tried to be a good brother and leader. I really have . . .

"It's late, Raph. We should've both gone to bed hours ago." And yet, we're standing here in the kitchen, glaring at each other like a couple of toddlers who didn't get their way, all because of your insanely bad temper . . . _AGAIN_! I choose not to speak that last part out loud for obvious reasons. I, instead, go with, "We'll talk about this in the morning."

"Hey! I didn't ask you stay up!" The condescension in his tone is harsh, even for Raph, but I manage to keep my emotions in check.

"Go to bed, Raph."

A highly corrosive laugh emanates from my hotheaded brother, strictly intended to mock me. "Heh, I will when I'm done here." Blowing me off in pompous fashion, Raph whirls back around to resume his efforts to find a late-night snack. It's like in his mind, the conversation never even happened.

Not about to let Raph just ignore me, I close the gap between myself and the fridge in three heavy strides and soundly slam the door shut.

Now I have Raph's full attention. He turns and fixes a death-glare on me, once more trying to intimidate me, but this only adds fuel to my fire.

"Oh, you're done here! Get your shell to bed!" I remain relatively calm despite my mounting frustration, but if Raph argues again, I just may boil over.

"You don't have the – "

"NOW!" I swore I could feel the whole lair shudder in the wake of my voice. Up until now, the only person I thought capable of mustering up that kind of thunderous volume was Sensei.

I'm a little taken aback by my outburst. Apparently, so is Raph, because he's looking at me as if he's seen a ghost.

After a few stunned moments of silence, Raph finds his voice again, and though it still holds spite, it's noticeably more watered down than before.

"So let me make sure I understand this. You're forcing me to go to bed because it's late, but not Donnie?"

"What?" The word 'what' seems to echo throughout the entire lair, cruelly reminding me over and over again just how screechy my voice had sounded.

Way to play it cool, Leonardo . . .

"You know, Donnie. Tall, nerdy guy. Purple mask. Walks around with a six-foot stick. Always spouting off big words no one understands. You can't miss him."

If looks could kill, the world would be minus one Raphael.

"I know who Donnie is! What does this have to do with him?"

"Well, since you're keeping tabs on all of us now, oh mighty Leader-nardo, you might want to check the lab. You'll see I'm not the only one up past your designated bedtime. Or do your rules just apply to me?"

As if of their own accord, my lips curl into a bitter sneer, barring my teeth. My disgusted reaction once again makes Raph smirk with amusement. He seems quite satisfied with himself as he struts out of the kitchen, leaving me temporarily speechless and quivering with anger.

Several seconds later, I hear the all-too-familiar bang of Raph's bedroom door slamming shut.

Luckily, Mikey's a sound sleeper, so he most likely slept through the whole thing.

Now, Donnie, on the other hand, is a –

Wait! Donnie!

In all my rage, I almost forgot about Raph ratting out our genius brother.

Without giving myself adequate time to gather my senses about me, I stomp towards the lab and immediately discover that the lights are indeed still on. Reefing the doors open, I burst inside the lab with all the subtly of a hand grenade going off.

My rather abrupt and aggressive entrance startles Donnie and his eyes look as though they're about to pop right out of their sockets.

"L – Leo?" Donnie just about chokes on my name as his left hand flies up to his chest, probably to check if his heart is still where it should be.

Now he knows how I feel when everyone comes barging into my room without knocking!

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" The anger I was feeling towards Raph has not subsided the least bit and it comes out in the form of a hostile shout geared at my unsuspecting brainy brother.

"Uh, y – yeah." Not even the hint of terror in his voice steals away my thunder and my next words still register as a shout.

"Then why are you still awake?"

Posture shrinking slightly, Donnie wrinkles up his face, clearly confused by my question and my somewhat livid behavior.

"I was just doing what you asked. You said you wanted me to do some more research on the Demodragon. And since you seemed so adamant about it, I figured that meant it took top priority over anything else."

Donnie gazes up at me with his wide, reddish-brown eyes, and for a moment, my wrath nearly falters. But only for a moment.

Oh, no. That big, pitiful eyes trick isn't going to work on me this time.

I'm not about to fall for that old routine.

"Why would you think that included getting sleep?"

"Do the words 'try harder' ring a bell?" A wry, tight-lipped smile follows Donnie's response, and immediately, my anger withers away to nothing, swiftly replaced by remorse and a heavy dose of shame.

Why did he have to go and bring _that_ up again?

I remember that fateful night all too well . . .

" _Donnie, you know how much this means to Sensei."_

" _Leo, I'm trying as hard as I can."_

" _Well, try harder."_

Yeah . . . definitely not my finest moment. That's for sure.

I hang my head down for lack of a better reply. I'm guessing my cheeks are currently about the same color as Raph's mask.

"Now, would you mind telling me what this is all about? Since when does me staying up late get you so furious?" Pushing his chair away from his desk, Donnie leans back and looks up at me with far more patience and understanding than my other two brothers have ever shown me.

"I'm sorry, Donnie. I didn't mean to get so upset. It's just that – " My explanation doesn't go any further. I'm at a sudden loss for words, but my smartest brother is quick to put the pieces together.

"You got in another fight with Raph." Donnie completes my sentence for me. His face is neutral, but his eyes tell a different story. They're filled with sympathy and understanding.

I let out a gruff sigh before sullenly asking, "Are we that predictable?"

"Yes, but you're also extremely loud."

"Yeah, I was trying to keep – Wait! You heard us?"

"It's kind of hard not to. I'm pretty sure everyone within a three-mile radius probably heard the two of you arguing." A small, humorless chuckle escapes Donnie's throat and he starts to rub his forearm as if he's nervous. He must be anticipating my next question.

"Then why did you ask me what this was all about if you already knew?" Just for added effect, I toss my right hand up in the air.

"Because I didn't want to force you to talk about it if you didn't want to."

Okay, now I feel like a total heel . . .

I need to stop taking my frustration out on poor Donnie. It's not his fault Raph's been acting like an even bigger jerk than normal lately.

In an effort to calm my taut nerves, I close my eyes, draw in a deep, cleansing breath, and mentally count to ten. It's a simple relaxation technique my father taught me when I was young – Well, younger. I'm still a teenager, so I guess I'm not exactly old, am I?

Once I feel some of the tension melt away, I open my eyes and lean my weight against my brother's desk.

"Donnie, am I a nag?"

The sudden panicked expression on Donnie's face is all the answer I need to my question. There's no need for him to elaborate, but he does anyway.

"'Nag' is a strong word. I would say you're . . . more like – well . . . you're a bit meticulous, is all."

Judging by Donnie's inarticulate response, he's only trying to spare my feelings.

"Isn't that just another word for nag?"

"Not exactly."

I squint one eye skeptically, knowing full well that 'not exactly' in Donnie-speak is another way of saying 'yes.' Before I'm able to point this out, Donnie promptly attempts to change the subject.

"Leo, I know it's hard, but you can't let Raph get to you like this. If he sees he can push your buttons, he's just gonna keep doing it. You of all turtles should know that's how Raph works."

"But he just keeps getting worse and worse." I cringe when I hear the whininess in my tone, but Donnie doesn't seem to notice. That's probably because he's so used to hearing Mikey whine all the time, he's desensitized to the sound.

"Is it that he's gotten worse, or is it that you're more hypersensitive to his behavior now that Sensei's . . . not here anymore?"

You know, up until now, I never realized just how good Donnie can be at giving advice. Maybe that's because, up until now, I had always gone to our father for guidance.

So much has changed since we lost him . . .

And not just my relationship with Raph. It seems like everything is different now.

I seal my eyes shut to hide from the pain, but there's no escaping it. My father's memory is always with me. I can still see him. I can still hear his voice playing in the back of my mind . . .

" _Everything isn't permanent, Leonardo. You cannot expect anything to last forever. Even . . . family."_

While I know it wasn't realistic to believe that we would always be together, I never thought that something like this would happen so soon.

I still can't believe he's gone . . .

Prying my eyes back open, I peer down at my brother, who's just looking up at me, silently waiting for an answer.

"No, Raph's definitely worse than before."

"Maybe he's just having a tough time dealing with his grief, Leo. You and I both know Raph's never been one to handle anything constructively. He probably just needs time."

While a part of me wants to feel sympathy for Raph, it's not strong enough to trump the other part of me that wants to crack his shell.

"Yeah, well how am I supposed to lead the team if he doesn't take anything I say seriously anymore? He totally ignores my orders. And Mikey's no better. All he seems to want to do lately is goof off. Not that that's all that unusual for Mikey, but it's gotten to the point that he won't help around the lair or even pick up after himself anymore. Master Splinter – he never had this much trouble getting them to listen to him. What am I doing wrong?"

"You're not doing anything wrong, Leo." As convincing as Donnie's attempt to console me is, I still cling tightly to my negativity.

"Well, I must be, because nothing I've done has worked yet. I keep trying to handle things just like I think Sensei would have, but – " The remainder of my comment is abruptly cut off by a now much less reassuring version of Donnie.

"Okay, I stand corrected." Donnie folds his arms across his plastron and looks up at me like he knows something I don't. Truth be told, that's how he should be looking at me all the time, because he _always_ knows more than I do. But in my defense, he _is_ a genius.

"What do you mean?"

"When I said you're not doing anything wrong. I now realize that wasn't entirely accurate. Technically, you _are_ doing something wrong." It's not very often that Donnie points out that he's wrong. Mostly he just gets his jollies off of pointing out when everyone else is wrong.

Now it's my turn to fold my arms across my plastron.

"Oh?" This word comes out in a highly cynical tone. Far more cynical than I had planned on, which Donnie must notice, because he hesitates for second or two before replying.

"You're trying to do things the way Master Splinter would."

I'm sure the look on my face must be something to behold. It's probably a cross between shocked and insulted.

Why the heck would Donnie say what he just did?

"Yeah! What's wrong with that?" My posture straightens bolt upright and I clench my hands into tight fists at my sides, much the way that Raph does when he's ticked off about something.

"Nothing, if you're Master Splinter . . . but you're not. None of us expect or want you to replace him, Leo."

Hearing this essentially knocks the wind right out of me and I'm forced to lean heavily against Donnie's desk, for fear of my legs giving way.

My voice is barely louder than a whisper when I'm finally able to speak again.

"But he left me in charge of you guys. He trusted me to take care of you."

Through weary eyes, I watch Donnie's expression soften. "I know he did."

The silence that follows my brother's comment is almost maddening. It's obvious he's got to more to say on the matter, but he just sits there, patiently waiting on my response. It's a reverse psychology thing, I just know it.

Any trace of confidence I may have had before is stripped away.

"And he even told me that he wanted me to be like a father to the three of you when he – " My throat closes up on me for a moment and I have to swallow several times before I can continue. "When he passed on."

That last line makes Donnie's shoulders sink with sadness and I can see that he has to take a few extra breaths to collect himself before responding. Try as he might to hide it, I know my brother is hurting inside. We _all_ are . . .

"The key word here is 'like,' Leo. Sensei – He wanted you to be 'like' a father. He didn't want you to _be_ our father. And he certainly didn't want you to be _him_."

I'm guessing I've been hanging around Raph too much lately, because my first instinct is to argue with what Donnie just said. But the more I think about it, the more I realize just how accurate his comments truly are. Ever since Master Splinter's funeral, I've been crazy obsessed with trying to be the perfect substitute for our father, but the truth is, I can't even compare.

"You're right, Donnie. I'm doing a lousy job at this whole 'fathering' thing."

This claim makes Donnie shake his head from side to side. "No. You're not. I think you show exceptionally strong paternal instincts. That's part of the reason why you come across as a 'nag.'"

"Gee, thanks, Donnie." My expression of gratitude is as phony as the day is long, dripping with heavy sarcasm. "So if I have such strong paternal instincts, why can't I get Raph or Mikey to listen to me?"

"Because you've never been the head of the household before. Yes, you were our leader, but Master Splinter always took care of ensuring discipline. _You're_ going to have to take on that role now, or Raph and Mikey are just going to continue to walk all over you."

"So what? Like lay down ground rules or something?"

In obvious contemplation, Donnie wrinkles up his face for a second or two before saying, "It couldn't hurt to try."

"Uh, yeah . . . it could. This is Raph we're talking about! He's got a long history of violence." Right off the top of my head, I can think of at least a dozen times my temperamental brother used excessive physical force just because he didn't like something someone said, but since Donnie's a genius, I don't actually need to site any examples. I can see from Donnie's knowing expression that he's already convinced.

"True. But if he keeps giving you a rough time, you could always make him see your 'point.'" The air quotes Donnie puts on the word 'point' and the conspiratory wink he gives me tells me there's more to his suggestion than meets the eye.

I place my hands on my hips in exaggerated indignation, as if offended by what he's implying.

"But I thought you said I shouldn't try to act like Master Splinter."

"I did! But I didn't say you shouldn't borrow from his methods or techniques. We've all seen just how persuasive pressure points can be. Especially when dealing with a certain short-fused, stubborn as shell, red-masked meathead who flat-out refuses to do anything you say." A devious grin spreads across Donnie's face. Like the kind a super villain gets after announcing his evil plans to take over the world.

"And here, all this time, I honestly believed you were the nicest one out of all of us . . . "

"No, I'm the smartest one, which technically means I can make you guys believe anything I want."

I laugh at Donnie's response, thinking he was just joking, but my laughter dies instantly when I notice his expression is eerily somber.

There's an awkward silence that follows and I'm left to wonder whether or not Donnie was being serious. Finally, after several agonizing seconds, he gives me another wink to indicate he was only kidding around.

At least, I hope he was only kidding around. I'm still not entirely convinced.

Sometimes, Donnie can be a little scary. I worry that he's way too smart for his own good . . .

Without thinking, I reach out and place my hand on my brother's shoulder to show my appreciation for the advice he just gave me, but I soon realize that's exactly what Sensei would've done in this situation.

Donatello's words from just moments ago repeat inside my head . . .

" _None of us expect or want you to replace him, Leo."_

" _Sensei – He wanted you to be 'like' a father. He didn't want you to be our father. And he certainly didn't want you to be him."_

The truth is, I could never replace our father. No matter how hard I try.

Thanks to Donnie, I now realize that I shouldn't be trying to be Master Splinter's replacement. What I should be trying to do is take all that I have learned from my father's teachings and be the person he always raised me to be.

 _Myself_.

I think back to something my father once told me . . .

" _My son, how can your brothers believe in you as leader if you do not believe in yourself?"_

Never had those words been so powerful as they are now that he's gone.

My brothers need me to have faith in myself, not attempt to be someone I'm not. I can't keep second guessing every decision I make because I'm not sure if it's what Master Splinter would do. That isn't fair to my brothers and it isn't fair to my father's memory. I need to be stronger and more confident than ever before. More importantly, I need stay true to myself and follow my heart, just as Master Splinter had taught me, not long before we lost him.

I look at Donnie through a thin layer of tears, which I will vehemently deny if he tries to call me out on it. Either that, or I'll blame it on allergies or something.

"Thanks, Donnie." My voice is slightly softer than normal, but still loud enough not to raise my overly perceptive brother's suspicions.

"Anytime, Leo."

I choose to leave my hand on Donnie's shoulder, assuming he doesn't mind the fatherly gesture.

His broad smile confirms as much.

We remain this way for several long-drawn-out seconds before it suddenly occurs to me why I came into the lab in the first place.

Clearing my throat and hardening my expression, I shift into leader mode. Or maybe it's more my big brother mode. Either way, my tone changes into something far more assertive.

"It's late, Donnie. You need to go to bed."

"I will, but I really need to get this – " Just as stubborn as Raph sometimes, Donnie tries to defy my authority, but I'm prepared for this and stop his argument short with a voice that sounds strangely like my father's.

"Do _not_ make me take you up on your own advice, Donatello."

The gentle, yet compelling threat is enough to make Donnie's eyes widen with dread. Now it's my brother's turn to wonder whether or not _I'm_ being serious.

Never one to take unnecessary risks, Donnie promptly shuts down his computer and heads for the exit without any further protest.

I follow behind him with what I'm certain is the biggest smirk ever.

This whole pressure point suggestion of Donnie's – Well, I can definitely see the benefits. I mean, look at how awesome it worked on Donnie without me even having to lift a finger. Obviously, Master Splinter had recognized the benefits as well.

My heart fills with a sudden sense of pride.

Maybe acting just like my father isn't such a bad thing after all . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Awww, Leo always tries so hard to be perfect and do the right thing. Sometimes he forgets how to have fun. Especially now that Master Splinter is gone. Good thing Leo's got three unpredictable little brothers to keep him on his toes.**_

 _ **Thank you, again, to Gina for suggesting this one-shot. I hope you're still reading my stories and you like how it turned out.**_

 _ **As always, if you would like to see more of these 'TMNT Shell Shots,' please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on them. That would make me all kinds of happy.**_

 _ **Have a wonderful day! ;) CJ**_


	14. Too Afraid (Power Inside Her Epilogue)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This one-shot takes place shortly after the episode 'The Power Inside Her.' If you have not watched that episode yet, I recommend watching it before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Too Afraid' Summary:**_ _**Sometimes the scariest thing in the whole universe is telling someone how you truly feel.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm back with another new 'Shell Shot' and this one's an Apritello epilogue for 'The Power Inside Her.' It's a companion piece to my one-shots 'Together Again' and 'Torn Apart,' which are chapters three and five of 'TMNT Shell Shots.' Just so you know, you don't need to read 'Together Again' or 'Torn Apart' prior to reading 'Too Afraid,' but the three stories do tie into one another. I like to refer to them as my 'T &A Trilogy.' XD**_

 _ **I want to dedicate this story to my awesome friend, shelshokd (aka ihlni686). Thank you so much for sending me this story request. I'm really, really sorry it took me so long to write it, but I've been battling with a nasty case of writer's block for the past several months.**_

 _ **I truly hope everyone enjoys the story.**_

 _ **As always, thanks for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Too Afraid**

As soon as I step foot inside the lair, I hear the sound of sparring coming from the Dojo. It seems a little late for the guys to be practicing, but things haven't exactly been normal these past few weeks. Maybe they're just trying to take their minds off things. Especially after what happened last night.

I don't even want to think about that . . .

When I start walking towards the Dojo, something tells me that I should check the lab first. Call it a psychic premonition kind of thing.

I have like this weird sixth sense that lets me know when something's – Well, off I guess. I don't really know how to explain it, but I do know better than to question it.

And so, I veer to the left and head straight towards the closed lab doors.

As I climb up the set of stairs that lead to the lab, my nerves begin to get the better of me and I almost turn back.

OMG! Why the heck am I so tense? It's not like I haven't gone inside the lab like a hundred times before – maybe even thousands by now. It's no big deal, right?

Yeah, no big deal. _Right_. Just to be clear here, I meant those last two lines in the most sarcastic way possible.

Come on, April. Pull yourself together. You've got this.

Swallowing down the thick lump that seems to be wedged in my throat, I finally gather up enough courage to knock on the door, but even my knock somehow sounds tentative. Like I'm afraid of something.

In a way, I guess I am . . .

On the other side of the lab doors, I hear a voice politely granting me entrance and my stomach immediately starts doing a bunch of somersaults.

Even though my intuition told me that Donnie was inside, there was still this naïve part of me hoping – wishing that the lab would be empty.

The funny thing is, the whole reason I'd come down to the lair was to talk to him, but now that I'm actually here, I'm not so sure talking to Donnie alone is such a great idea.

Maybe that's because I just about killed him last night . . .

Okay, it's not so funny after all, is it?

Pulling the doors open, I enter on legs that don't seem to want to cooperate. It's like I've all of a sudden got two left feet. I've never been so nervous to step inside the lab in all my life.

"H – Hey, Donnie." I'm really hoping he doesn't notice the hesitation in my voice.

From behind his desk, Donnie peers up at me with an eerily familiar look on his face. I'm pretty sure it's the same shocked expression he had given me when I had accused him of losing my crystal.

It's a moment I'd just as soon forget . . .

" _What's wrong?"_

" _Where is my crystal? I gave it back to you, now you've lost it!"_

" _Well, we'll find it. Okay? Just relax."_

" _I don't want to relax! I want my crystal!"_

" _April?"_

" _Just leave me alone!"_

Now that I'm finally thinking clearly, I realize that Donnie had only been trying to help. Come to think of it, he had done nothing but try to help me since our return to Earth.

And look at how I repaid him.

Some friend I am . . .

"April? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting! Does your dad know – " I hold up a hand to stop him from going any further.

I am so not in the mood to listen to another person go on and on about how I should be resting.

"Donnie, I've been stuck in bed all day. I just wanted to check on you. How – How are you feeling?"

As I walk up beside him and lean against the edge of his desk, his hand instantly flies up to rub the back of his neck, the way it always does when he's feeling uneasy about something. I watch his gaze flick away from mine. Not because he's shy or embarrassed – which is usually the case when he avoids eye contact with me. No, this is completely different than all those other times.

It's obvious that something's wrong. This only suffices to make me feel even worse than I already do.

"I'm fine, April. Don't worry about me. You should really be resting." Okay, who's the 'psychic' now? It's like he just read my thoughts. Sometimes I swear Donnie knows everything. Well, everything except how I truly feel about him. Thank goodness he can't actually read my mind. That would make things a lot more complicated. Although, I have to admit, there are times that it would be easier to just tell him that I –

Focus, April! You're in the middle of a conversation here.

Clearing my throat, which suddenly feels like it's closing in on me, I try to lighten the mood a bit.

'Try' being the key word.

"Oh, like you should talk. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look totally worn out." 'Totally worn out' is putting it mildly, but unlike Raph, I'm not comfortable with flat-out telling someone they look like crap.

Seriously though, even with his mask on, I can still see the heavy bags underneath Donnie's eyes. I have to wonder if he got any sleep at all last night. Of course, I'm not entirely convinced that Donnie ever really sleeps. Whenever I stay overnight at the lair, I never actually see him go to bed. He's always tooling away at something in the lab when I turn in for the night, and in the morning, he's always awake before me. _Always_!

You know, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if Donnie cut sleep out altogether just to buy himself more time to work on all his projects. I think it's safe to say he's a hopeless workaholic.

Before I can get too caught up in my thoughts, Donnie's tired voice confirms my suspicions about him not getting any rest.

"Yeah, I didn't get a whole lot of sleep. My room was, uh . . . a little crowded." I'm guessing from the red flush of Donnie's cheeks, he's humiliated that he just revealed his brothers crashed in his bedroom. I know how close he and his brothers are. I imagine after the scare they had last night, they probably didn't want to let Donnie out of their sights.

I wholeheartedly understand the feeling . . .

"So did you guys – " Before I can complete my sentence, I manage to bump my hand into a beaker near the ledge of Donnie's desk and it crashes down onto the floor. Fortunately, there wasn't anything inside of the beaker, because it's now shattered into about a gazillion pieces all over the concrete at our feet.

Fantastic.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz."

"Hey, don't sweat it. I'll get the – " I quickly cut Donnie off before he can finish.

I'm not about to let him clean up the mess I've made.

He's been trying to do that for far too long now . . .

"No! Let me get that for you!" I suddenly reach my right hand out to stop him from getting up and that's when I see him visibly shrink away from me. For a moment, he stares at my hand as though he's utterly terrified of it, just like he and the others had done last night when I summoned my tanto to show them I still had my own powers. And just like last night, Donnie's now sitting there, trying his best to act like nothing happened.

But it _did_ happen. I saw it with my own two eyes.

He acted like he was scared.

Scared of _me_ . . .

Too ashamed to look at him, I seal my eyes shut and I'm instantly flooded with a tidal wave of memories from last night.

I remember being in the lab with that stupid helmet strapped to my head . . . _again_! Why the heck I let Donnie talk me into putting that ridiculous thing back on after what happened the first time he hooked me up to it, I'll never know. Anyway, I remember Donnie was trying to run some kind of test to analyze my psychic powers. That's when things went south in a real hurry. Not long after Donnie turned up the settings on his weird machine, there was this blinding, white light, and then, there was nothing. I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a while, because the next thing I remembered was being in the Dojo. Not long after I came to, I pretty much lost all control to Za-Naron and started attacking everyone that got in my way, including Tiger Claw, Fish Face, the Purple Dragons, and even Master Splinter, Casey, and all the turtles.

Although I technically wasn't me most of the time, I still remember everything that happened.

I remember _everything_ I had done. Especially what I had done to poor Donnie.

One moment he was suspended right there beneath me, and the next, he was gone. Ripped apart by my own powers, and there was nothing I could do to stop myself.

The horrific scene keeps replaying in the back of my mind, over and over again . . .

" _This isn't you, April! That crystal is changing you! You need to break free!"_

" _Ahh! It's too much power! I – I can't control it anymore! Nahhh!"_

" _You can do it! I know you can!"_

" _Ah! I'm not strong enough! Donnie . . . I'm sorry."_

" _April . . . please. April! PLEASE!"_

The look in his eyes as he stared up at me – just before I molecularly scattered him across the city . . . That look will forever haunt me. I could see that he was frightened, but at the same time, I could also see his undying faith in me.

" _You can do it! I know you can!"_

He believed in me with every last ounce of his being, even after the way I had treated him. Not just last night, but for weeks now. I had lashed out at him multiple times. I had refused his attempts to separate me from that crystal. I had brutally attacked him and Master Splinter back at the lair. I had left them for dead, and still, Donnie didn't hesitate to track me down and try to help me . . .

" _April!"_

" _Foolish mortal."_

" _Ahhh!"_

" _Stay out of my way!"_

" _G-yahh! April! It's me! Donatello!"_

" _Donnie? Ahhh-ahh!"_

" _Listen to me. Give me the crystal. Just give me the crystal and everything will be okay."_

Why hadn't I listened to him? More importantly, why hadn't I listened to myself? Why couldn't I hear how obsessed I was?

" _No! Get away from it!"_

" _I said BACK OFF . . ."_

" _It's mine! I need it!"_

" _Where is my crystal? I gave it back to you, now you've lost it!"_

" _I don't want to relax! I want my crystal!"_

" _It's not a crutch! It's just very important to me, and now it's missing!"_

" _He's got my crystal! It's mine!"_

" _It's my crystal. I'm never gonna take it off again, for anyone or anything. Ever again."_

" _No! I'm not taking it off! Don't even ask again, Donnie. It's safe, as long as I have it."_

" _My – My crystal! Where's my crystal?"_

" _No! No, it's mine! I need it!"_

Now that I'm finally free of that evil alien crystal, I can see how truly dependent I was on it. I can finally see what Donnie had seen all along.

Oh, D. I should have trusted you, the way that you trusted me . . .

I look down at Donnie and see he's gazing up at me with those big, brown eyes that sometimes make me feel like he's staring straight into my soul. Butterflies start to flit around in the pit of my stomach, as they always do when he looks at me that way. His expression is so sweet and tender, it takes my next several breaths away.

Even after everything that's happened, he's still looking at me as if I'm the only girl in the whole wide world.

No one else ever looks at me quite that way. And even if they did, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't feel the same as when _he_ does it.

Despite the strong urge to reach out and touch his face, I force myself to stay at arm's length. Not because I don't want to be close to him, but because I don't want to hurt him again.

I now fully understand why Za-Naron targeted Donnie first. It wasn't because she wanted to "cleanse" him. It was because of my feelings for him. She sensed them and saw him as a threat that needed to be eliminated.

That's why she made me choke him.

" _April! What are you doing?"_

That's why she made me attack him.

" _April! Stop! You have to control it! NO!"_

And that's why she made me tear him apart.

" _This isn't you, April! That crystal is changing you! You need to break free!"_

" _You can do it! I know you can!"_

" _April . . . please. April! PLEASE!"_

Za-Naron realized just how much Donnie means to me. She knew he was the one person who had a chance to get through to me, and so, she tried to destroy him. Even worse – she made _me_ try to destroy him.

I should have been stronger.

I should have stopped her.

I should have protected him.

Instead, I hurt him more than I ever thought imaginable. And now, my own best friend is scared of me because of my stupid fixation on that crystal.

"I'm sorry, Donnie. I'm so sorry . . . for everything."

"It's okay, April. You don't have to keep apologizing. I know it wasn't you. The creepy, glowing eyes, deep voice, and crazy hair kind of gave it away." For the first time since my arrival, his face lights up with a genuine smile. That smile was what ultimately saved me.

It was what ultimately saved _all_ of us.

I think back to the moment just before I had finally regained control of my own actions. I could hear Casey, Mikey, and Leo's desperate attempts to get through to me, but they hadn't been enough . . .

" _We know you're in there, Red!"_

" _We're your friends! Your family!"_

" _Remember who you are! You are April O'Neil! Remember everything we've been through together!"_

" _Yeah, like the time we fought a giant mutagen man! And our dope missions in space!"_

" _And Master Splinter, and pizza parties, and Ice Cream Kitty."_

As heartfelt as all their pleas had been, I still could not break free of Za-Naron's control. Not until Raph uttered out two simple words . . .

" _Remember Donnie!"_

Upon hearing this phrase, my head instantly filled with memories of Donnie. I remembered all the wonderful things about him – from his fierce loyalty, his ceaseless determination, his extraordinary intelligence, his huge heart, his compassion for everyone and everything, right down to his amazing smile. Those memories, combined with my immense grief, manifested themselves into the strength I needed to fight back.

I was able to defeat the Aeon creature and destroy the crystal, but the victory had been bittersweet, for it had come at a cost. Or so I had thought. I honestly believed that I had lost Donnie forever . . .

Just the thought makes my legs feel as though they're about to give out underneath me. Donnie must notice this, because he suddenly jumps up out of his chair and grabs onto both of my arms, nearly stepping on broken glass in the process.

"April! Are you all right? You look a little faint. Maybe you should sit down."

His eyes are wide with concern as he helps to hold me upright. Once again, he's supporting me in my time of need.

I gaze up at him and tears start to cloud my vision.

I could have lost him last night and he would have never known how I truly feel about him.

Now, I've been given another chance . . .

"Donnie – " The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, but they won't come out.

Tell him how you feel, April! Just tell him!

What are you so afraid of?

"Donnie, I – " My confession shrivels up and dies in my throat only two words into it. My mouth is still open, but nothing more than air comes out.

I can feel Donnie's grip on my arms tighten ever-so slightly and I know it's to comfort me. The sympathetic look on his face tells me as much.

His kindness is like salt in a wound. How can he still have so much faith in me after what I did to him? I don't deserve it.

But I _will_ find a way to make it up to him. And I _will_ earn that trust.

Somehow . . .

"We can talk about this later, April. Right now, you need to get some rest. Just let me get this glass cleaned up, and then, I'll take you home, okay?"

There's so much I want to say to him, but all I can do is nod in response.

With the utmost caution, Donnie guides me away from all the shattered glass strewn across the floor. Once I'm safely out of harm's way, I lean heavily against his work table and watch on silently as he sweeps the fractured remains of the beaker into a dustpan. I know I should be helping him, since I'm the one who busted the beaker in the first place, but I suddenly feel like I can barely stand. Up until now, I didn't realize just how exhausted I am. I feel like I could sleep for about a month. Apparently, being possessed by an alien took a lot more out of me than I thought.

Feeling a chill creep up and down my spine, I wrap my arms around myself just as Donnie comes over to help me stand upright again.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

No sooner do we start walking towards the doors when Raph strolls inside the lab, looking none-too-pleased to see us.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Aw, sewer apples! I should have realized that that sudden chill was actually a premonition.

"Hey, Raph. I was just gonna walk April home. It's late and I – "

"I don't think so, Brainiac. You heard what Sensei said. You can't leave the lair until your temperature comes down."

Raph's words hit me like a wrecking ball, momentarily making me choke on the very air I'm trying to breathe.

"W – Wait! Temperature? What's he talking about, Donnie?"

Before Donnie even has a chance to answer, Raphael steps in between us, as if to block his younger brother from my view. Raph then folds his arms tightly across his chest, clearly shifting into his overly protective big brother mode. I can tell by his arrogant smirk that whatever he's about to say isn't going to be the least bit friendly.

I guess I can't blame him. Donnie wasn't the only brother I tried to kill last night . . .

"What? Donnie didn't tell you? He spent the better part of the day puking his guts out. Plus, he's got a fever."

The heavy hint of accusation in Raph's tone should probably sting more than it does, but my attention is elsewhere at the moment. Namely, Donnie.

Feeling a strong sense of betrayal, I glance over at Donnie, who's now practically cowering behind his shorter brother. As if of its own accord, my face twists into an expression that presumably falls somewhere between a scowl and a pout. I narrow my eyes into slits and fix a glare on Donnie, like I'm trying to burn holes right through him.

I can't believe he didn't say anything after I specifically asked him how he was feeling!

Why does he have to be so secretive all the time? It drives me nuts. Why can't he just tell me how he –

Oh my gosh, I'm such a hypocrite! Did I seriously just go there?

"It – It's nothing, April. My temperature's just slightly elevated and my stomach's been a little queasy, is all. I'm perfectly fine. Really. Sensei's just being cautious."

I can see from the look on Donnie's face that he's worried I'm going to blame myself for him not feeling well. He's right. I totally do. After all, this whole thing _is_ my fault.

"Speaking of 'Sensei,' he sent me in here to tell you it's past your bedtime, Brainiac. Said something about using any means necessary to get you out of your lab." The grim tone of Raph's voice implies that 'no' isn't an option here, but Donnie tries to argue his way out of the situation regardless.

Raph isn't the only turtle in the lair who's hopelessly stubborn . . .

"But it's not even – "

"No 'buts,' Don. Bed. Right. Now." Raph's new tone promises that there will be dire consequences if Donnie fails to comply. I notice that Donnie's head dips down so low, his chin is just about touching his chest. It's a sure sign of forfeit.

"Wh – What about April?"

Raph tenses up at the question, but does a pretty decent job of keeping his irritation out of his response. "I'll walk her home so you can get some rest, Donnie."

Then, come the idle threats Raph is known for, but they're spoken much gentler than what I'm accustomed to hearing.

"And just so we're crystal clear. Working on projects in your room doesn't count as rest, little brother. You need to get some actual sleep. I mean it. If you're still awake when I get back to the lair – Well, I'm not gonna be a happy turtle." Though I'm sure that Raph was trying his best to sound intimidating, the slight tremor in his voice tells me that he's just as worried about Donnie as I am.

"And how exactly would you being unhappy be any different from your usual foul mood?"

As soon as Donnie poses his highly sarcastic question, a growl sounds out from Raph and I have to cover my mouth in order to smother a giggle.

"Okay, smart aleck! You've got five seconds to get your scrawny shell to your room before I drag it there!"

For a brief moment, it looks as if Donnie's actually thinking about protesting, but then, his shoulders slouch in obvious defeat and he glances over at me apologetically. Donnie, being the genius that he is, knows better than to try to call Raph's bluff. Especially when Raph has permission from Master Splinter himself to use 'any means necessary.'

That's like a 'Get Out of Jail Free Card.'

"Good night, April. I'll stop by tomorrow and check on you, if that's all right with you."

Donnie yet again demonstrating his seemingly eternal selflessness makes a pang of guilt stab straight through me.

"Only if you're feeling better, D. You need to get some rest, too."

In response to my comments, Donnie weakly nods and flashes me a warm smile before trudging out of the lab as if his feet were made of lead. It looks like he's just as exhausted as I am.

I don't even realize that I'm totally staring at him until I hear the sound of Raph gruffly clearing his throat beside me.

Drawing in a deep breath, I nervously turn towards Raph, whose face is now creased with disgust.

Obviously, there's more than one brother I need to make things up to.

All of a sudden, the air in the lab seems to drop by like ten degrees.

"Listen, Raph . . . about what happened last night. I – I'm really, really sorry for hurting you."

My apology makes Raph shake his head from side to side and he heaves out a frustrated sigh. Several uncomfortable moments of silence pass before he finally speaks again.

"I don't care that you hurt me. I care that you hurt _him_." As he says this, Raph casts a glance towards the open doorway where Donnie had just been. The hostility I had sensed from Raph just seconds ago is gone, replaced by sadness. I could've even sworn I had heard his voice crack when he had said the word 'him.'

"I didn't mean to, Raph. I swear I didn't." Now it's my voice doing the cracking and I have to bite my bottom lip in order to keep it from quivering.

"He . . . He trusts you." I notice the significant pause that follows the first 'He.' I'm not sure if it's because Raph's struggling to find the right thing to say or to find his voice. Either way, it makes my heart sink like a stone.

"I know."

. . . and I went and broke that trust into millions of tiny, little pieces, literally.

I lower my head, partly to hide my shame, but mostly to hide my tears.

"So I, uh, probably owe you an apology, too. You know, for trying to take you down."

I can't help but grin over Raph's awkward form of an apology. It's almost painful to listen to.

"Yeah, well, I almost crushed you, so I think that probably makes us about even."

He laughs at this comment, but it's half-hearted at best.

I immediately start to regret what I just said. Especially when I look up and see the many bruises littering Raph's skin.

Bruises _I_ put there . . .

I'm about to start mentally beating myself up again when I feel Raph give me a little nudge on the shoulder. His lips curl up into the ghost of a smile. It's hardly noticeable, but it's enough to let me know that he's not mad anymore.

I'm not saying that all is forgiven, but at least we're making progress.

"Just don't hurt him like that ever again, okay?"

The sound of Raph's rarely heard soft side coming out causes my voice to fail me for the second time tonight, and once again, I'm forced to simply nod in response.

A smug smirk soon spreads across Raph's face, indicating that the fleeting moment of affection has already passed.

I should've known it wouldn't last.

I mean, this _is_ Raph we're talking about.

"And if you tell him what I just said, I'll tell him who _really_ stole those energy drinks from his lab last week."

This comment makes my eyes practically bulge out of my head and my voice miraculously returns full force.

"What? H – How did you find out?"

I didn't think it was physically possible, but Raph's smirk somehow grows even wider.

"I've got my sources."

"Casey!" I spit out the name as if it's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted.

Not surprisingly, Raph scoffs at my reaction.

"Heh, don't blame Jones on this one. It's not his fault you actually trusted him to keep a secret. Even Mikey knows better than that. So . . . I think that probably makes us about even, huh?" I wince as my own words are thrown back at me, clearly meant to mock me.

With that said, Raph starts to make his way towards the lab doors, as if ready to leave. I naturally assume this means he's done with our conversation, but then, he abruptly stops his momentum and looks back over his shoulder at me. The fire that normally burns in his intense, green eyes is missing. What I see instead is his soft side making yet another unexpected appearance.

Twice in one night!

Will wonders never cease?

Raph's voice is strangely endearing as he says, "I promise I won't tell Donnie anything if you don't."

His vow makes me grin like a Cheshire cat.

I guess I'm not the only one guilty of not telling Donnie how I really feel. The only difference is, unlike Raph, I have every intention of telling Donnie the truth about my feelings.

I'm not going to waste this second opportunity I've been given.

I _will_ tell him.

Just not tonight . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I've literally been working on this story for months now and I'm so glad I was able to get it ready just in time for Apritello week on Tumblr. Once again, thanks so much to my awesome friend, shelshokd, for the request and for being so patient with me. I really hope you like how the story turned out.**_

 _ **I've noticed that my last several 'Shell Shots' have taken place inside of Donnie's laboratory. As much as I love hanging out in the lab with my favorite genius, maybe it's time for me to branch out a little bit. I'm thinking I'm going to take my next one-shot up to the surface. A change of scenery would be nice. We'll see . . . XD**_

 _ **As always, if you are enjoying these 'Shell Shots,' please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment. The feedback is very much appreciated. Thank you for reading. ;) CJ**_


	15. Kind of Cute (B Team One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***'Kind of Cute' Summary:**_ _**Having to say 'no' to Mikey is a lot harder than Donnie thinks.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: For the first time in forever, I was finally able to write an entire 'Shell Shot' in one day and I'm super excited to share it with everyone.**_

 _ **This little story is dedicated to my lovely friend, donniesgirl87. I was so touched by the beautiful pictures she drew for 'Lost in the Fight,' I just had to do something in return. I really, really hope you like this small token of my appreciation, donniesgirl87. Thank you, again, for the amazing artwork. *hugs***_

 _ **I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed that this story makes everyone smile.**_

 _ **Thanks so much for reading. ;) CJ**_

* * *

 **Kind of Cute**

A pair of huge, innocent, puppy dog eyes stare up at me, making it nearly impossible for me to say no to my baby brother's heartfelt request, but I need to be the rational one here. Darwin knows my younger brother isn't going to be.

Unfortunately, being the rational one oftentimes means being the bad guy.

"Absolutely not, Mikey."

"Awww, puhhhhhhh – leeeeeeeeease, Dawwww – nnieeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Never before had the word 'please' or my nickname been dragged out for so long, but it still has little to no effect on me.

Try as he may, Mikey's ultimately wasting his breath. There's no way in shell he's going to change my mind. Not this time.

"My answer is still no, Michelangelo." It's not very common for me to use my baby brother's full name, but I feel it's completely warranted here.

Again, the puppy dog eyes are gazing up at me, sad and pitiful, but I'm not about to give in.

"For the last time, Mikey, you cannot bring that dog home with us. Leo and Raph would have a conniption fit."

"What the heck is a cunziption fit?" Mikey scrunches up his face and looks at me like I had just spoken in Parseltongue.

"A ' _conniption_ ' fit. It means they'll totally freak out."

"Then why didn't you just say that in the first place, dude?"

I'm about to argue with him when I realize it'd be about as practical as slamming my head against a brick wall repeatedly.

"The point is, _Mikey_ , we are _not_ taking that dog home with us."

"But I promise to take really, _really_ good care of him! I'll feed him and water him and brush him and walk him and – "

I cut my little brother's solemn vow short by briefly cupping the palm of my hand over his mouth. Otherwise, he probably would've gone on for another twenty minutes or more. I'd like to get home at a decent time for once.

"What part of 'no' are you not getting, Mikey? The 'n' or the 'o?' If we bring that dog into the lair, Leo and Raph will crack my shell for sure." I fold my arms across my plastron and twist my mouth into a scowl to show I'm that not going to budge on the matter.

"No they won't, bro, 'cause I'll totally take all the blame! I swear!"

"They'll still pin the whole thing on me, Mikey!"

"But why?"

I wince upon hearing this question. Not because I don't know the answer, but because I don't know how to answer it without potentially hurting Mikey's feelings. I have to choose my wording very carefully here.

' _Because I'm the older, wiser, more responsible brother who's supposed to be keeping an eye on you at all times so you don't get into too much trouble or bring home every last stray animal in the city, which is precisely what you would do without proper supervision_ ,' is what I actually think, but the filtered version comes out as follows . . .

"Because I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you so you don't get into trouble."

Granted, this trimmed down version isn't quite as detailed as I'd prefer, but it gets my point across. Or at least I _thought_ it had . . .

"Awww, does he look like trouble to you?" Mikey asks in a sugary-sweet tone, holding the dog mere inches away from my face. It looks like the canine is a mix between a beagle and possibly some type of terrier breed, but that's just an uneducated guess. I'm not exactly a dog expert.

Though I do have to admit, it _is_ kind of cute . . .

"Look at him, D! He needs a home! Where's your sense of compassion?"

"Buried somewhere deep beneath my sense of logic and my strong sense of self-preservation. We can't bring it home with us, Mikey! End! Of! Discussion!" My words are a bit harsh, but sometimes a little tough love is necessary when trying to get through to my younger brother.

Even though Mikey doesn't have the reputation for being the stubborn one in the family, he definitely has his obstinate moments. Take right now, for instance.

"Well, I'm not leaving here without Sir-Pants-a-Lot!"

This statement makes me nearly choke on my own breath.

"I – I'm sorry. Wh – What?"

"I said I'm not – "

"I _know_ what you said, Mikey! But did you honestly just name that poor dog 'Sir-Pants-a-Lot?'"

"Yeah, bro! It's the perfect name for him, 'cause he's a dog, so he pants a – "

"I get it!" Without even realizing it, my hand instantly flies up to do a facepalm in response. I seal my eyes tightly shut for a few prolonged seconds, feeling a pounding headache coming on fast. This is _so_ not what I had in mind when I agreed to let Mikey tag along with me to the junkyard tonight.

Why do bad things always happen to me? Seriously!

I open my eyes again only to see that Mikey's lower lip is now quivering like a spoonful of mercury. To top that off, he's also cradling the dog to his chest and stroking its fur affectionately.

Oh, for the love of life!

"Mikey, that dog doesn't belong to us. What if he has an owner and they're out there looking for him even as we speak?" My tone is soothing, in hopes of reasoning with my little brother, who's already clearly attached to what very well may be someone else's pet.

"But what if he doesn't, D? What if he's abandoned? We can't just leave him here all alone. He needs us."

"Look! It's got a collar. Maybe there's an ID tag or something."

As if on cue, a worried voice suddenly cuts through the cold night air, just about making the two of us jump right out of our shells.

Mikey and I quickly duck behind the nearest garbage dumpster for cover, but I soon realize that we're not in any immediate danger of being spotted. Near as I can tell, the voice is most likely coming from a block or two away.

"Mitzy! Here, Mitzy! Where are you, girl?"

Upon hearing the voice call out, the dog's tail immediately begins to wag back and forth like crazy. I watch Mikey's dewy, blue eyes shift down to the small animal still clutched against his chest and I know he sees it, too. Mikey may not always be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's a lot more perceptive than we sometimes give him credit for. He knows just what the dog's excited reaction means.

A little whimper squeaks out of Mikey as he peers up at me, his eyes silently begging me for something I cannot give him.

The man's voice calls out another time, and once again, the dog's tail is going about a hundred miles per hour.

I reach forward and gently tug at the collar around the dog's neck. There's a pink, bone-shaped tag that has the name 'Mitzy' engraved across it.

Just as I had suspected . . .

I look back up at Mikey who now has visible tears trembling in his eyes. His bottom lip is protruding into a pout that can only be described as tragic. I give my little brother a reassuring nod and watch on as he carefully sets the dog down onto the pavement at our feet.

Without a moment's hesitation, the small dog runs off in the direction of the man's voice, barking merrily as it goes. Seconds later, we hear . . .

"Oh, Mitzy! I've been looking all over for you! Thank goodness I found you!"

Silence follows the happy reunion and I can see from the expression on my baby brother's face that his heart just shattered into about a gazillion pieces. I reach out and squeeze a hand around Mikey's shoulder to comfort him. He then peers up at me with a crooked smile before saying, "I can't believe Sir-Pants-a-Lot was a girl."

It's hard not to laugh at this comment, but I manage to keep my amusement restrained to just a grin.

"Come on, Mikey. Let's go home. I'm pretty sure there's something waiting for you inside the freezer that'll make you feel way better."

"Yeah." Mikey sighs out the word and my own heart breaks at the sound of it, but he then adds, "You're right, D. Hellio's pizza does sound pretty good right about now. Thanks, bro."

That 'something waiting for you inside the freezer' I had been referring to had actually been Ice Cream Kitty, but as long as my little brother's happy again, I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Awwww! It's a short and sweet one.**_

 _ **With the holiday season fast approaching, I really felt like writing something warm and fuzzy about the B Team and a puppy. I truly hope everyone enjoyed it.**_

 _ **Thanks, yet again, to donniesgirl87 for being so amazing. C8**_

 _ **Just a quick FYI . . . The next 'Shell Shot' I'm working on is based on the apocalypse arc and it's turning out to be way longer than I initially planned. XD**_

 _ **As always, please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you're enjoying these short stories. I would love to know. Thank you all very, very much for reading. ;) CJ**_

 _ ****Special Note: I am so grateful to everyone who favorited, followed, liked, reblogged, reviewed, and/or commented on my new story, 'Slash's Revenge.' I was totally overwhelmed by the dozens of positive responses. OMGeeeee! I can't possibly thank all my friends and readers enough. I hope to post chapter 2 of the story sometime over the next few weeks. Thank you, again and again and again. *bear hugs***_


	16. Better Than None (Apocalypse One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This story is based on the TMNT mutant apocalypse arc. If you have not seen those episodes yet, I recommend watching them before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Better Than None' Summary:**_ _**When the turtles are unable to stop a deadly mutagen bomb from detonating, one brother awakens to discover that he may be the only member of his family left.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Hey! I'm back with a new 'TMNT Shell Shot.' After watching the apocalypse episodes, I had so many unanswered questions, I didn't even know where to begin. But the biggest question I had was 'What happened after the M-bomb went off?' So, I wrote this story. Not surprisingly, it wound up way longer than I had planned, but there was just so much to cover. I'll warn you in advance, this one is pretty emotional. I once again managed to make myself cry . . . ;~;**_

 _ **I would like to dedicate this story to one of the most wonderful human beings on the face of the planet. Flaux, this is an early Christmas present for you. Thank you for all you have done for me. You're such an amazing person and I'm incredibly blessed to call you my friend. ILYSM! 8}**_

 _ **I truly hope all of you like what I have done here. Thank you very, very much for reading. ;)**_

 _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Better Than None**

The ringing in my ears won't stop and I have to wonder if there are additional explosions going off or if I'm just hearing echoes of the same deafening blast over and over again. I can still feel heat washing over my already scalded skin, but it's not nearly as intense as when the bomb first detonated. My eyes are tightly sealed shut, in an attempt to block out the destruction all around me, but I'm pretty sure the image of what I just saw will be forever burned into my retinas.

So what exactly _did_ I just see?

Honestly, I don't even know how to describe it, other than to maybe call it the end of the world.

In an instant, life as we knew it was gone. Blown to shell by some kind of mutagen bomb. At least I think that's what it was. I remember sirens sounding out and seeing a weird device lifting up into the sky, and then –

For some reason, my mind is suddenly drawing blanks and the details of what happened seem to be scattering away from me. I'm guessing it's because I'm in shock.

I suck in a deep breath, hoping it might somehow help me think straight, but all it does is make my stomach turn. The distinct and potent smell of charred flesh is hanging in the air, thick and heavy, reminding me why my eyes are closed.

And so, I just continue to lie here, wedged into the uneven surface that was kind enough to break my fall. I can still feel debris tumbling down on me from above, like it's raining rubble and soot. This is another one of those times it's good to be a turtle. Luckily for me, I'm able to tuck myself up inside the protection of my shell, but not before taking one heck of a blow to the head when the explosion detonated.

Or was it after?

I'm not sure . . .

I think it happened when I landed here, just after Leo pushed us out –

Leo . . .

Though my memory of the incident seems to be getting hazier by the minute, I remember seeing tears in Leo's eyes as he shoved us out of the way. He was right at the epicenter when the bomb went off. He knew there was no way he would survive the blast, but he did everything in his power to make sure that we would. He protected all of us, right up until the very end.

I vaguely remember reaching out for him as darkness swallowed him whole. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, having sacrificed himself in order to save us.

 **US!**

My eyes fly open when it finally occurs to me that my little brothers – _**our**_ little brothers – are still out here. Leo gave his life to protect them. I'll be shelled if I let that sacrifice be in vain.

Doing my best to ignore the pressure throbbing inside my skull, I clumsily force myself up to my unsteady feet. A wave of dizziness threatens to send me back down to the ground, but I push past the pain for the sake of finding my family. I can't be the only one who made it.

Please, for the love of life, don't let me be the only one who made it . . .

"Donnie! Mikey!" My voice doesn't sound even remotely like my own as I call out for my younger brothers. I try to convince myself that it's just a result of temporary hearing loss, but I know darn well it's because I'm totally freaking out.

The city looks like someone took a giant blow torch and hammer to it, and then, doused everything in acid. Buildings that once stood tall, towering towards the sky, are now reduced to nothing more than flaming ruins. But that's nowhere near as disturbing as the bodies.

They're everywhere. It's like something straight out of a horror movie.

Those humans who weren't incinerated in the blast are hideously disfigured, to the point that it's hard to even look at them. Most of the bodies within my limited field of vision appear to be motionless. Those few who did manage to survive are just sprawled out on the ground, twitching and moaning, barely alive.

They're dying. They're _all_ dying.

This sends me into full-on panic mode.

"Mikey! Donnie! Where are you? Answer ME!"

My heart is racing as I start searching through the wreckage that was once New York City. My little brothers were right there with me when the bomb went off. They can't be too far from where I landed. They should be able to hear me, even over that awful siren still blaring in the background.

Unless –

No! Don't think like that, Raph. They're okay. They've got to be okay.

Though my memory's a little foggy, I'm pretty sure my brothers were on my left side when we fell, so I focus my search efforts in that general direction.

Running on pure adrenaline, I'm upending hunks of fallen concrete and steel beams like they weigh nothing as I continue to call out my brothers' names. Each outcry is a little more desperate than the last. Maybe that's because every place I look, all I see are dead bodies.

This can't be happening.

This _can't_ be happening!

"MIKEY! DONNIE!"

In my haste to find my brothers, I not-so gracefully stumble over a big chunk of concrete and slam plastron-first into the jagged ground. The impact knocks the wind right out of me and it takes several extra-long seconds to regain my breath.

This turns out to be one of those blessings in disguise, because while I'm face down on the ground, wheezing for air, that's when I see it. A hand poking out from beneath the fallen debris. The rest of the body is concealed from my view, buried underneath a mound of rubble. But all I need to see are those three unique fingers to recognize who it is.

"Donnie!"

Before I even finish screaming my little brother's name, I've got a firm hold of his wrist, nervously checking it for a pulse. Much to my relief, I'm able to find one, but it's weak at best.

Pushing myself up to my feet once again, I begin peeling away the many hunks of metal and cement piled on top of my genius brother. The fact that he's not moving makes my own movements all the more frantic. There's this tiny voice inside my head telling me there's no way anyone could survive the injuries sustained from this much weight crashing down on top of them, but I'm somehow able to disconnect these dark thoughts from my brain. I simply refuse to believe the words are true.

"It's okay, Donnie! I'm gonna get you out! Just hold tight!"

After a minute or so of rather hysterical digging, I manage to free Donnie's legs only to discover that both of them are smashed and twisted at odd angles, clearly broken in multiple places. Nothing – and I mean _nothing_ – could have possibly prepared me for _this_. I have to close my eyes and momentarily press the back of my right hand against my mouth in order to stop myself from puking. The last thing Donnie needs right now is for me to fall apart.

I quickly move towards Donnie's head, praying to whoever or whatever might be listening that the damage is minimal. I carefully remove the debris keeping my brother's face hidden from my view, and though I'm not much of a crier, I just about lose my composure when I see that my prayers have been answered. Donnie's got a few noticeable scrapes and bumps on his head and face, but nothing that appears to be life threatening.

Breathing just a little easier, I cup a hand around my genius brother's less bruised cheek. All the while, I keep repeating the line, "It's gonna be okay." I realize that Donnie probably can't hear what I'm saying, but in all honesty, the words are more for my own comfort than his. Seeing him this hurt – it's too much.

I'm about to start pulling the remaining debris off Donnie's chest when I hear a small, rattly groaning sound, although it's barely audible over that obnoxious siren that continues to blare out. I wish someone would shut that damn thing off already.

Another groaning noise reminds me that the siren should be the least of my concerns right now. What I should be focusing on is –

"Donnie? Donnie! Come on, talk to me, bro! Open your eyes!"

Instead of opening his eyes like I told him to, Donnie opens his mouth and I watch on helplessly as his body goes rigid and his lips twist in silent horror, like there's a scream trapped in the back of his throat trying to claw its way out.

Out of what I can only assume is instinct, I begin to gently stroke my thumb across Donnie's cheek. The physical contact seems to make him relax a little; heavy emphasis on the 'little.' He still looks like he's in agony and it's killing me inside. I can't stand to see any of my brothers in pain. I'd just as soon die than watch them suffer.

"I'm right here, little brother."

Donnie's eyelids start to flutter and a few seconds later, he's staring up at me through droopy eyes. A part of me wants to jump for joy over the fact that he's awake, but another part of me wants to break down, because it doesn't take a doctor to see that Donnie's in a bad way.

"R – Raph?" That one word makes it sound as though he's choking, which scares the shell out of me, but I try not to let it show. That's not what my brother needs right now. He needs me to be strong.

Like Leo would've been . . .

"Yeah. It's me, Donnie."

Realization suddenly sweeps over his face and he starts gasping out words rather than sentences, as if he's having a panic attack or something.

"Wh – Where? L – Leo! M – Mikey? He – He! C – Can't! Need! M – My! Get!"

Without any warning, Donnie attempts to sit up, but the heavy pieces of debris strewn across his arms and plastron help me to keep him pinned down to the ground. I guess that's the one good thing about my brother being trapped underneath all this crap.

"H – Hurts . . . R – Raph."

Hearing him say this is like a poisoned knife straight to the heart. I wish on everything I hold dear that it was me lying there instead of him.

"I know, little brother. I know. I'm gonna remove the rest of the debris, okay? I just need you to lie as still as possible. Can you do that for me?" My voice is unusually soothing as I ask this, but at the same time, I can hear the terror coming through in my every word. I just hope he can't tell that I'm barely keeping it together.

"Y – Yeah. I – I'll try." There's an unspoken 'I trust you' in his whisper-soft reply that makes inhaling and exhaling seem harder than normal, but I make do with what little air I can get.

With the utmost care, I start to peel away the jagged mess piled on top of Donnie's upper body, but much to my horror, I'm not careful enough. Only moments into my rescue efforts, I pull on a piece of thick rebar jutting up out of the rubble blanketing my younger brother and he lets out this sharp, earsplitting wail. It's like nothing I've ever heard before, and though the actual sound itself is short-lived, the echo hanging in the air continues to send a shudder up and down my spine. What's even worse is the look now etched across Donnie's face. I can see plain as day that he's in excruciating pain.

This makes something inside of me snap, and an instant later, any sense of sanity or caution is thrown to the wind. My hands are now flinging fragments every which way but Donnie while I hastily try to clear away the debris around the rebar.

It doesn't take long for me to figure out why Donnie had screamed the way he had. The revelation has me fighting back my own scream of agony.

The rebar I had tried to pull away – it's sticking straight through my little brother.

"Aw, shell! Aw, shell!" It takes me several prolonged seconds to realize that I'm repeating those same two words, over and over again, as though I'm a broken record.

My hands are shaking like mad as I reach forward to yank out that repulsive steel rod piercing my brother's chest, but just as I'm about to remove the bar, Donnie lifts up his newly freed right arm to grab hold of one of my wrists. His grip is extremely weak, but the objection that follows is surprisingly strong. At least for the first few lines it is. By the time he finishes speaking, it sounds as though he's sapped up his every last ounce of energy.

"NO! Y – You can't! You c – can't pull it out! It's – It's the only thing . . . keeping me alive."

These words crash into me like a mace to the skull.

" _It's the only thing . . . keeping me alive."_

"What – What are you saying, Donnie?"

"Raph . . . I need you . . . to find Mikey." My blood runs cold at the eerie grimness in his tone. Then, his grip around my wrist tightens about ten times what I thought he was capable of, while the pupils of his eyes practically shrink to the size of pinpoints. "He was . . . He was . . . right next to me . . . when we f – fell . . .

I notice Donnie doesn't mention April or Casey or any of the others. I'm guessing it's because he realizes where they were when the blast went off. There's no way they could have possibly survived.

"P – Please, R – Raph. You have . . . to fi – "

Before Donnie can finish his plea, I cut him off with the softest voice I can muster, only to have him cut me off in return.

"Donnie, you need to stay – "

"Find him, Raph! Please." There's no mistaking the desperation in my brother's request. This sudden fixation with locating Mikey coupled with Donnie's _"It's the only thing . . . keeping me alive"_ comment scares me half out of my mind, but I do my best to hide it.

"Okay, okay! I'll look for him, but only if you calm down. You need to keep still."

Donnie nods his head almost imperceptibly and releases his grasp on my arm. His own arm falls limply to the ground as if it's too much effort to hold it up a second longer. The fear in his expression is obvious, but I can see the exhaustion in it as well. This worries me more than anything.

"And you have to promise me you won't fall asleep. 'You hear me?"

A faint groan follows and I'm guessing it's supposed to be a form of approval, but I'm not satisfied with the vague response.

"Promise me!" The harshness in my tone makes me cringe, but I have to know whether or not he actually understands what I'm saying, if only for my own peace of mind. I'm not leaving his side until I have a definitive answer.

Donnie peers up at me with an exasperated expression that silently says, 'we don't have time for this, you stubborn moron.' But he eventually breathes out, "I promise."

It's not the most convincing vow I've ever heard, but it'll have to do.

Leaning in a bit closer, I pat the top of Donnie's head and force a small, reassuring smile.

I know he's scared out of his wits.

So am I . . .

"I'll be right back, okay?"

Now, I'm not going to lie. I hate the thought of walking away from Donnie when he's like _this_. There's a freaking metal bar sticking out of him for shell's sake! But I want to find Mikey just as much as my genius brother does. The sooner I locate our baby brother, the sooner we can –

Aw, crud! I don't even have a clue what we we're going to do after that.

Panic starts to seize hold of me again, but I'm quick to push it away.

Focus, Raph! Find Mikey first! You can figure the rest out later.

"Mikey!"

All those times growing up, when I got disgusted with my baby brother for playing pranks on us – Well, right now, I'm hoping against hope that his failure to respond to my calls is just another one of his stupid practical jokes.

But I'm only kidding myself. Even Mikey knows better than to joke around at a time like this.

I try to think back to when we had fallen, but the memory is faded and fuzzy, like I'm looking through lead glass in a dense fog. I thought that Mikey was on my left side, but maybe it was Donnie who had been on my left and Mikey was on my right. No. Mikey was to the left. Or was he? I'm not sure.

Why can't I remember?

Pressing a hand firmly against my pounding forehead, I shift my attention back to the present. Donnie just said that Mikey was right next to him, so that must mean he was to my left. That's where I had found Donnie, so that's where I need to search.

"MIKEY!"

It only takes me about a minute to find the first sign of my youngest brother and the sight makes me instantly drop to my knees.

An orange mask, tattered and bloodied, is draped over a crumpled I-beam. In one swift motion, I scoop the fabric up into my trembling left fist, clinging to the mask as though it's a lifeline.

Crawling on all fours, I scour the area for my missing brother, but all I can find is his mask amongst the mountains of scrap and bodies.

He's got to be here somewhere!

"MICHELANGELO!"

The wreckage is scraping up my hands and shins, but I couldn't care less. All I care about is making sure my little brothers are safe.

Yeah. Like Donnie's real safe . . .

My genius brother's earlier words resound in my aching head . . .

" _It's the only thing . . . keeping me alive."_

I cast a troubled glance over at my badly wounded brother only to discover that his eyes are sealed shut.

No! No, no, no, no, no, NO!

"Donnie!"

With lightning fast speed, I make my way back over to Donnie and kneel down beside him. Stooping over his frighteningly still form, I start to lightly slap the side of his face in an attempt to wake him. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but his skin seems noticeably colder than only moments ago.

That can't be a good sign.

"Come on, little brother! This is no time for a nap! You promised me you'd stay awake, remember? Donnie!"

The fact that my brother hasn't budged an inch just about sends me over the edge. It takes all my willpower to stop myself from grabbing hold of his shoulders and shaking the living daylights out of him. Instead, I start yelling in his ear slit like some kind of crazy turtle.

Hey. No one's ever accused me of dealing well with a crisis.

"Open your eyes, dammit! I mean it! You promised me! Wake up! WAKE! UP! DONNIE!"

Finally, his eyelids pry apart, although they're only open a sliver. Still, it's better than nothing.

"Shell! Don't do that to me, Donnie! I almost had a stinkin' heart attack!"

Donnie opens his mouth to presumably apologize for scaring me half to death when he notices the mask still clutched in my palm.

"M – Mikey?" The way Donnie says our little brother's name is the most gut-wrenching thing I've ever heard. I have to turn my head away to keep from losing it, which only seems to upset Donnie all the more.

"N – No. No! They're n – not dead, R – Raph! They're not! We have to – t – to k – keep – " Before Donnie can finish his sentence, he cries out in pain. I look down and see that both of his hands are tightly clutched around the hole where the rebar is projecting up about ten inches out of his plastron. His eyes are scrunched shut, which presses out tears of anguish that soak into his mask. With every breath he takes, his breathing sounds more and more obstructed.

"Ah, Donnie. You need to lie still." At a loss for what to do, I push my hands against Donnie's shoulders to hold him steady. Feeling him trembling in my grasp is sheer torture.

Somehow, through all the pain, Donnie manages to whimper out, "I don't . . . have much time."

The true meaning of this statement isn't lost on me, but I'm not about to accept it.

"Don't say stuff like that, Donnie! We can fix this! You just have to tell me what to do!"

"You can't . . . f – fix this, Raph. You n – need . . . to f – find . . . them. Please. J – Just go."

Oh, shell no.

If Donnie thinks I'm just going to leave him here, he's got another thing coming.

"No turtle left behind. You know our rule."

"Raph . . . "

"I'm not leaving you, Donatello! Not ever! I can bring you back to your lab and you can walk me through how to patch you up. You've got all that equipment. I'm sure there's – "

"Raph, s – stop. You don't . . . understand. M – My injuries . . . I'm not . . . I'm not gonna m – make – "

"Don't you dare say it, Donnie! Don't even think it! I can't lose you! I can't!"

There are tears steadily streaming from my eyes now and I don't bother to hide them. I can feel the teardrops dribbling down my face, most of which trickle off my chin and splash onto Donnie's ash-covered plastron, washing away small streaks of soot in their wake.

As I choke back the sobs that keep coming, I feel one of my brother's hands rest on top of one of my own. Our teary eyes meet and I see a small glimmer of hope in his gaze that had been missing before.

"There is . . . s – something we could . . . c – could try. But it . . . it w – would be . . . a longshot."

Hearing him say there's something we can try is like music to my ear slits.

"Hey, I'll take any shot we can get. What do we have to do?"

"You're gonna . . . n – need . . . to bring . . . me to . . . R – Rockwell's l – lab. But f – first . . . w – we need t – to f – find – " The rest of his sentence comes out a garbled mess as he's racked by another flood of pain, but I know exactly what he was going to say.

He has no intention of leaving here without our brothers. That much is clear.

I now realize that I have to make an impossible choice.

Stay or go?

My own words from just seconds before taunt me inside my head . . .

" _No turtle left behind."_

I still haven't found my other two brothers yet, but if I don't get Donnie out of here now, I'm going to lose him. I couldn't live with myself if I allowed that to happen. While I hate the thought of leaving Leo and Mikey behind, I need to realize that they may not have even survived the blast. If I keep looking for them, Donnie will die and my other two brothers may already be dead. As awful as that sounds, I need to face the truth. The horrible, horrible truth. If there's a chance – even the slightest one – that I can save Donnie, shouldn't I take it? Better one brother than none, right?

I guess it's not an impossible choice after all. It's the only choice I have.

"We need to get you out of here, Donnie."

Even though it seems to cause him a great deal of pain, my brother shakes his head from side to side to demonstrate his strong disagreement. "No! N – Not until . . . w – we find . . . Leo and M – Mikey."

"Donnie! Listen to me! You said it yourself. You don't have much time. I'm not gonna just sit here and let you die! If there's something back at Rockwell's lab that can save you, then that's where we're going!"

I can see that he wants to argue with me on the subject, but for some reason, he chooses to remain silent. Maybe that's because he knows it's a fight he can't possibly win. No one out 'stubborns' Hamato Raphael.

"Now, what do I need to do? Do I need to stabilize you in case you've got a neck or back injury or something?"

The corners of Donnie's mouth coil up slightly. At first, I mistake it for another grimace of pain, but I soon realize that he's actually smirking. "R – Raph . . . You've b – been . . . paying attention. And here . . . I thought . . . you were unteachable."

Leave it to my brainiac brother to make some snide comment at a time like this. Although, I have to admit, it's good to hear his sense of humor is still working.

"No. I've just been watching a lot of football on the local stations lately and that's what they do whenever someone gets shellacked."

Donnie laughs at this comment, but it's somber. Void of any actual amusement.

This makes me immediately break out into a cold sweat.

"So what do I need to do, Donnie? You're the medical expert here."

"The Shellraiser . . . is parked . . . a few b – blocks away. May – Maybe it's . . . still f – functional. Do y – you think . . . you could carry me?"

Now I know my brother's in bad shape. He would never ask me a question like that if there was any possible way he could get up on his own. Not that there's any chance of him walking with his both of his legs busted and a metal bar skewered through him. It's just that Donnie's usually too pigheaded to ask for help with _anything_.

"'Course I can carry you, but I'm gonna need to splint your legs first."

"J – Just leave them . . . R – Raph."

"Like shell I'm just gonna leave 'em! You wouldn't think of saying something like that if it was one of us injured! What? Do the rules change when it's _you_ lying here hurt?"

My brother's eyes shift away from mine, searching for anything to land on that isn't me. It's a sure sign he's hiding something. This makes my gut bunch up into knots. Then Donnie stresses me out even more.

"No. That's not it . . . at all."

The words are getting harder and harder for him to form now. Still, he won't look at me.

"What aren't you telling me, Donnie?"

He attempts to clear his throat, but it sounds more like he's gargling a cup of water. It's at this point I notice a thin trail of blood running out of the corner of his mouth.

I try to convince myself that he must have cut his lip or bitten his tongue, but deep down inside, I know it's something much, much worse.

"Why don't you want me to splint your legs, Donnie?"

"Because I . . . I can't feel them, R – Raph! I – I can't . . . m – move or feel anything . . . from the w – waist down."

"Then that's all the more reason for me to – "

My brother's raspy voice cuts me off short and the urgency in his tone is glaringly obvious.

"You need to . . . g – get me to . . . Rockwell's lab."

"Why there? Why not your lab?"

"I've been w – working . . . on a . . . n – new invention. I n – needed to . . . use R – Rockwell's . . . research . . . and equipment . . . for it."

"What the heck does some new invention have to do with anything, Donnie? You're not making any sense!"

"Just listen . . . to me . . . for once . . . Raphael!" Donnie pauses after he says this and I can see from the look on his face that he regrets raising his voice. His tone is noticeably softer as he continues. "P – Please. It has . . . to be . . . Rockwell's . . . lab."

The way he's staring up at me with his weepy, brown eyes, there's no way I can say no.

"Okay, okay! But how am I supposed to pick you up with that _thing_ sticking out of you?" I needlessly gesture towards the rebar stabbed through him, like he had forgotten all about it somehow.

How could he possibly forget _that_?

Another mirthless laugh wheezes out of him before he groans, "Very carefully."

I can see that Donnie's struggling to keep his eyes open, which makes my own go wide. If he passes out on me, I'm not going to have any idea how to help him. I need to get him out of here, now!

"Eyes on me, Donnie. You've gotta stay awake."

He mumbles an 'mmmm-hmmm' and nods weakly.

"I'm gonna try rolling you onto your side to see if the bar is attached to anything underneath you. I'll be as gentle as possible, okay?"

Another 'mmmm-hmmm' follows and he squeezes his eyes shut as if bracing himself for the pain that's sure to come.

Taking a firm hold of his shoulder and the base of his shell, I carefully lift Donnie's one side up to assess the situation.

The bar that's pierced through my brother's chest is still attached to a hunk of concrete underneath him, but mercifully, it's a small enough piece that I'll be able to carry it along with Donnie. In other words, we aren't going to have to pull out the bar in order to move him.

That's the good news. The bad news is Donnie's shell –

Aw, man! It's cracked in multiple places. Portions of it are missing. It's a freaking mess.

There's so much blood. So much damage.

I can't stop a mortified gasp from slipping out, which Donnie instantly picks up on.

"M – Maybe we . . . should just . . . s – stay here, Raph. It's only . . . a matter . . . of time . . . before I – "

Donnie cuts his own sentence short. I'm guessing it's because he can't actually bring himself to say the word 'die,' but I know he's thinking it.

Seeing the will to fight rapidly draining out of my brother like water through a storm drain is enough to send me into action mode. Without even thinking, I scoop Donnie's broken body up into my arms and turn towards the direction we parked the –

Wait! What direction _did_ we park the Shellraiser in? To tell the truth, I don't even remember taking it.

I have to wonder if it's Donnie who's off his rocker or me.

"Where'd you say we left the Shellraiser, Donnie?"

My brother's either too weak or too polite to lift his head up to look at me as though I'm an idiot. Instead, he just pants out the answer to my question.

"It's in . . . the alley . . . b – by the . . . old laundro . . . m – mat."

With this new information, I wildly sprint due east towards the location Donnie indicated. Since my genius brother's got a photographic memory and my own memory seems a bit sketchy right now, I'm just going to assume he's right for time's sake.

Donnie hisses and howls from me jostling him too much as I scale over the heaps of rubble, but the noise only pushes me to run harder. As long as he keeps making noises, it means he's still with me.

The further we get from the actual blast site, the easier it is to travel. Granted, there is still a lot of damage to the buildings, but the structures have not completely collapsed, so the roads are pretty clear. At least for now they are.

In less than two minutes flat, we reach the Shellraiser. Miraculously, it's somewhat unscathed. A quick once-over reveals a couple new dents and scratches that'll just add character. I have to kick away a few hunks of debris, but other than that, it looks like we're good to go.

With Donnie in tow, I climb inside the back of the vehicle and set him down on the floor as gently as I can, doing my best to avoid moving the bar jutting out of him. I can tell just by the look on his face and the tears in his eyes he's having a tough time stopping himself from screaming.

"Is there anything in here I can give you for the pain, Donnie?"

"N – No. Need to . . . s – stay coherent."

Thought I can't stand the idea of him having to suffer through more pain than he has to, I nod my understanding.

Leaning over him, I reach for the emergency kit Donnie keeps on hand 'just in case.' It's one of the many times I'm grateful my brainiac brother is always overprepared.

As I'm stretching across the aisle Donnie's laid out on, I catch sight of the small object still sitting on what's usually my baby brother's seat.

It's Mikey's teddy bear. Seeing that ratty old thing staring back at me makes my heart start to ache something fierce. I try to think back to why my youngest brother had brought it along in the first place. I seem to recall him saying something about having a nightmare, but I can't remember anything else about the conversation. More than likely, I had made fun of the little goofball for still playing with stuffed animals.

If I would've known what was going to happen –

Well, let's just say I would've changed a lot of things.

Opening the box of miscellaneous first aid supplies, I try to push any thoughts of my two missing brothers out of my mind. I need to focus on Donnie right now.

I reach for a roll of gauze when I feel a hand wrap around my left forearm, feebly trying to stop my momentum.

"Raph . . . what are . . . y – you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Though my answer holds sarcasm, my voice is void of its usual bite.

I shrug Donnie's hand off with ease and quickly begin gathering the medical supplies I'm going to need.

"We don't . . . have time . . . f – for that." My brother once again tries to grab my arm, but I catch his wrist in midair and softly push his arm back down to the floor.

Donnie lets out a little whine of frustration, but he's too injured to put up a real struggle.

"I'm not gonna argue with you on this, Donnie."

"But, Raph – "

"Don't 'But, Raph' me, Donatello. You're bleeding all over the place. If you don't let me do this, you're gonna pass out from blood loss and then what? Huh?" The bite in my voice that had been missing just seconds ago is back. Donnie must notice this, too, because he doesn't protest any further.

Save for the siren still ringing outside, everything else falls eerily silent as I dress my brother's many wounds. The fact that Donnie doesn't move or make a single sound when I bandage his grotesquely fractured legs makes my whole body start to shake with both fear and rage, but I force myself to concentrate on treating my brother's wounds rather than stressing out over the possibility that Donnie might be permanently paralyzed.

I've got more than enough to worry about as it is.

Working as fast as my hands will go, I bandage just the cuts and punctures that are 'heavily' bleeding. The rest can wait until we get to Rockwell's lab.

I reach inside the first aid kit again and pull out the emergency blanket that I know Donnie always keeps tucked away inside the box. I unfold the shiny material and drape it over Donnie. It doesn't quite cover his whole body, but at least it'll keep him somewhat warm.

There's a barely detectable smile on Donnie's lips as he faintly whispers, "Just like . . . when we . . . were little."

"What?" I have to ask for clarification, because I'm not really sure what Donnie had meant by his comment.

"You used to . . . s – sometimes tuck . . . Mikey and I . . . in at n – night . . . when we had . . . a bad dream. Before you got . . . too old . . . f – for that . . . kind of stuff."

"I did?"

Why don't I remember that?

Why wouldn't I remember something as significant as that?

Donnie laughs once again and his answer is almost lighthearted. "Yeah. Kind of . . . hard to b – believe . . . isn't it?"

Making sure to keep the irritation out of my voice, I play along like I know what the heck he's talking about.

"Things were a lot different back then."

There's the understatement of the century.

Donnie must be thinking along the same line, because he lets out a sigh. As he does, I notice droplets of blood spray out of his mouth and dribble down his chin. I quickly dab it away with some extra gauze. I then close up the first aid kit and rush towards the front of the Shellraiser, trying not to let my brother see just how shaken up I am.

I have to get him out of here. Now!

"R – Raph?" Donnie's voice calls out to me, scared and frail.

"Don't worry, Donnie. I'm gonna get you to Rockwell's lab and we'll get you patched up. You're gonna be all right. You just gotta stay awake 'til we get there, okay?"

It's all a lie; he knows it, but he says nothing. He's a genius. He knows I'm just telling him what I think he needs to hear, but still, it somehow makes me feel better. I just hope it makes him feel better, because I'd hate myself if I just made him feel even worse than he already does.

Yeah. Like I really could . . .

Putting the pedal to the metal, I race towards the Mighty Mutanimals' headquarters. It's not far from here, but I have to take a different route than normal due to the heavy amounts of fallen debris. Even so, I manage to make pretty good time, all things considering.

"Donnie, you still awake back there?"

There's a pause and I darn near have a stroke, but then I hear Donnie rasp out, "Uh - huh."

Climbing out of the driver's seat I make my way over to Donnie and carefully lift him up, leaving the emergency blanket draped over him. Partly to keep him warm, but mostly because I don't want to look at what's underneath.

Donnie groans in pain as I make my way towards the building. The structure is still standing, but there's obviously heavy damage from the blast. It's probably not the safest place to be right now, but nothing about New York City is all that safe at the moment.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?" Aside from my own voice echoing in the air and Donnie's ragged breathing, there's no other sound to be heard as I step inside the building.

"Slash! Rockwell! Leatherhead! Gecko!"

I have to wonder if they were even here when the bomb went off. Most likely, they were out there trying to stop it. Just like we had been.

My breath hitches in my throat. Being inside this building again brings back memories I'd just as soon forget.

Why is it I can't remember all that other stuff, but I still remember everything about _her_?

At least I know she was safe from the blast. Finally, after all this time, I have a reason to be thankful about her leaving.

A gurgling sound from Donnie snaps me out of my wandering thoughts, reminding me of the real reason why I'm here.

I tighten my hold on my brother and head towards the back of the building where Rockwell has his lab set up.

Reaching inside, I switch on the light before entering so I can assess the condition of the lab. Save for a few visible cracks in the walls and ceiling, the room looks to be stable enough. I carry Donnie inside and set him down on Rockwell's worktable, nice and easy. I notice that Donnie doesn't make a sound as I do this, unlike the other times I moved him. I know it means he's getting worse.

No! Stop thinking like that! He's going to be fine. He _has_ to be fine.

"Okay, now tell me what to do to remove that – that _bar_." There's unintentional anger in my voice, but I can't help it. That offensive piece of metal projecting out of my brother's chest is too much for me to bear. I just want it gone.

"We're not . . . g – going . . . to remove it."

My knee-jerk reaction to this comment is to yell.

"What? Have you lost your mind? You can't walk around with that _thing_ sticking out of you for the rest of your life!" No sooner do I get done shouting at my wounded brother when I realize just how insensitive my words had been.

Why do I have to be such a jerk all the time?

I'm about to apologize, when Donnie grabs hold of my arm again. The dark shadows on his face make me shudder.

"You still . . . don't get it . . . d – do you? I'm dying, Raph. My w – wounds . . . they're fatal."

Now, it's his words that are hurting me.

"No. No. Don't talk like that, Donnie. We can make you better."

"Raph . . . We can't . . . just make . . . this b – better. Not this . . . t – time." My brother's glassy eyes shift down to the piece of rebar protruding out of his chest. There's so much sadness in that gaze, I want to scream.

"But you said there was something we could try! What about the longshot idea?" My desperation is painfully obvious. If Donnie can't hear it, I'm sure he can see it.

"I d – don't . . . even know . . . if it's . . . ready yet. I h – haven't . . . had – " An expected coughing fit cuts Donnie off, and I realize with dawning horror that he's hacking up blood.

Then, it hits me like a ton of bricks. His lung! That _thing_ punctured his lung.

Donnie's upper body starts convulsing, so I pin him down to the table as best I can until he calms down.

Finally, the coughing bout starts to subside, but not before the damage is done. I can see the blood now seeping from Donnie's chest wound and I can hear the bubbling sounds with every gasp of breath he takes.

It sounds like he's drowning.

"I don't care if it's not ready yet! If there's even a chance, we have to take it!"

Donnie nods his head and points a shaky finger towards a strange looking machine not far from where we're at.

"N – Need to . . . wheel that . . . over."

I immediately do as I'm told, knowing that time is of the essence here.

Looking down at the object I'm pushing towards Donnie, I notice that the top of the thing looks like a pieced-together, metal turtle shell made out of an altered NYC manhole cover. Upon further inspection, I see that there are several tubes sticking out of the base of the device. One tube is significantly thicker than the others, and if I had to wager a guess, I'd say it was a ventilation system. The rest of the thinner tubes are hooked up to a power source of some sort that's sitting on the floor just a few feet away from where I'm standing.

"What the heck is this, Donnie?"

"It's my . . . l – latest invention. Metalhead . . . Mark Two. I've been . . . w – working on it . . . ever s – since . . . we lost . . . M – Master Splinter."

Okay, I know I'm not the smartest turtle to ever walk the face of the Earth, but I'm definitely not the dumbest, either. This doesn't make one little bit of sense. What does Donnie reinventing Metalhead have to do with saving his life?

"So, how's this gonna help you? Did you program this new robot to be a world-renowned surgeon or something?"

Donnie seemingly ignores my question and points to another device tucked away in the corner of the room.

"Need . . . th – that, t – too."

In a total breach of character, I don't argue; just continue to do as I'm instructed. I rush over to the second device and pull it up beside the turtle shell-shaped one.

"Okay, now what do I do?"

If circumstances were different, my little brother would have taken this opportunity to go on and on about his amazing new invention and list off in excruciating detail the many different features he had installed, but as it is, he simply says one word.

"H – Helmet."

Helmet?

Before I can even ask what that means, Donnie's eyes start to roll around in the back of his head.

"No, no, no, no, Donnie!"

In less than second, I'm hovering over Donnie, frantically slapping the side of his face.

"Don't do this to me! You have to stay awake and tell me what to do! Donnie!"

My brother groans in disapproval, but I keep lightly hitting him until I see his eyes come into focus once again.

"Good, good. That's it, little brother. That's it. Keep looking at me."

A grimace makes Donnie's upper lip curl, and quite honestly, I've never been so grateful to see that goofy gap in his teeth in all my life.

"Now, tell me about that helmet, Donnie."

Drawing in a watery breath, Donatello weakly peers up at me as if to silently beg me to just let him rest for a little while.

Not going to happen.

"I know you're tired, Donnie, but you have to talk me through this. Your big, meathead brother doesn't know what to do here. You mentioned something about a helmet. What did you mean?"

I lightly slap my brother's face a couple more times to keep him lucid, which startles him a bit, but he finally seems to process what I'm saying.

"Underneath . . . t – transfer unit . . . there's . . . helmet."

It's hard not to notice that Donnie's grammar is getting worse by the second, which only makes my panic rise.

I turn towards what I assume is the 'transfer unit' he was referring to and dig around underneath. Sure enough, right below the computer monitor, there's a shelf with a metal helmet that has multiple attachments poking out of it.

"Okay, I've got the helmet. Now what?"

"Put on . . . my – my head."

Half of me sees where he's going with this, but the other half doesn't want to believe it.

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I carefully place the helmet over the top of Donnie's head. It looks utterly ridiculous, but I'm so worried about my brother at this point, I don't even bother to make fun of him.

"Now . . . p – plug . . . end. . . charging . . . unit."

I have to take a few moments to pick apart the sentence, but as I'm doing so, I see a heavy, black cord hanging down from Donnie's helmet that's not plugged into anything. That must be what he meant. Quickly grabbing the cord, I step over to the shell-shaped unit and find a spot where the plug will fit into. I then turn back towards Donnie, afraid to leave him alone for more than a second or two at a time. He's barely awake and his breathing seems to be slowing down.

We're running out of time.

"Okay, I've got it plugged in. What's the next step?" Though my tone is urgent, my voice is still surprisingly gentle. When I look down at him, I only then become aware of the fact that I'm petting Donnie's shoulder. My face burns with embarrassment, but I don't stop. I can worry about my stubborn pride later.

"P – Power up . . . m – machines. G – Green b – buttons."

Spinning back towards the two machines, I search for said 'green buttons.' I have no trouble finding the one on the 'charging unit,' but it takes me a little longer to locate the one on the 'transfer unit.' Once I do, I hastily press it so I can turn to face Donnie again and await further instruction.

That's when the idiot starts trying to push himself up off the table.

"What the shell do you think you're doing?" Any progress Donnie has made with his efforts is in vain because I quickly push him back down onto the surface of the worktable.

"You not going anywhere!" To further emphasize my point, I apply a little more pressure to his shoulders, to which Donnie whines.

"H – Have to . . . s – sit . . . up."

"No, you don't! Whatever it is that you need done, you just tell me and I'll do it. You're not in any kind of shape to be moving around." My voice starts off strict, but softens into a low whisper by the time I'm done. The childlike expression on my brother's tear-stained face makes it impossible to stay stern.

"No . . . t – time . . . R – Raph. Needs to . . . be m – me."

I know what my brother's getting at. He's politely trying to say I'm too incompetent with techno stuff to do whatever needs to be done next.

The annoying thing is, he's right.

Not wanting to waste any more precious time, I hoist Donnie up into a somewhat sitting position. I then use one arm to hold him upright while I use my other arm to pull the machines as close to him as possible. I have to be careful not to bump into the bar still jutting out of him.

I can feel Donnie trembling violently in my grip, which makes me nervous, so I wrap both arms around him.

Reaching his hands towards the 'transfer unit,' Donnie starts clicking the mouse and tapping on the keyboard with far more speed than I thought he was capable of considering the condition he's in. It's like his fingers suddenly have a mind of their own and he's working on autopilot.

"So, what exactly is that you're doing?" I'm not sure I'm ready to hear the answer to my question. Something tells me I won't like it.

"I'm going . . . to cyber . . . netically . . . t – transfer . . . my consciousness."

Now I know I'm _definitely_ not ready to hear the answer.

"You're what?" Luckily, the structural integrity of the building is still reasonably sound, otherwise the sheer volume of what I just shrieked would've make the roof cave in.

"I'm gonna . . . upload . . . my m – mind . . . into Metalhead." The detached way Donnie says this makes my stomach churn. Does he even realize what he's suggesting?

"Wait! Wait! Wait! You can't be serious! You're not actually gonna try to put your brain inside that robot?" The incredible urge to grab my brother by the shell and try to shake some sense into him is overwhelming, but I somehow manage to restrain myself.

"Not . . . brain. My . . . s – subconscious."

This comment just makes my temper flare.

"That's your plan? That's your longshot? Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?"

"Do you . . . have a b – better . . . option?" Though Donnie is struggling just to get enough breath to speak, I can easily hear the heartbreak in his voice.

Once again, I didn't even bother to stop and think about what my brother must be feeling inside right now. I'm sure it must be killing him to have to make this choice. If there was any other alternative, I know my genius brother would've thought of it by now.

This is the one shot we've got.

As much as I don't like it, a robot brother is better than no brother at all.

I may have already lost Leo and Mikey. I won't lose Donnie, too.

"Okay, what do we have to do?" I look down at my wounded brother while I say this and I can see his bottom lip is quivering, as if he's desperately trying to stop himself from crying. I hate the fact that he's hurting like this. I'm his big brother. I'm supposed to protect him. Now more than ever, he _needs_ me to protect him.

I cup a hand around the back of Donnie's neck and gently pull his head against my plastron. He leans heavily into me, as though all his strength is gone, but I lend him my own. While I continue to support his weight, I bend down and rest the side of my face on top of his head, just listening to the sound of him softly sniffling into my chest, still trying to hold back his grief. We stay this way for several long moments, but I can tell by his breathing and the way his body continues to sag that he's fading fast.

I don't want to let go, but I have to.

Taking great care, I lay him back down on the table and try to make him as comfortable as possible. He looks up at me through teary eyes and presses his lips into a thin smile, as if to silently say he's ready.

The question is, am I?

"The transfer . . . will s – start . . . once we . . . h – hit enter."

I nod, suddenly unable to form words.

I know the risks here. That's why I can't stop the tears from forming in my own eyes.

"If t – transfer's . . . s – successful . . . it will . . . say so . . . on . . . c – computer screen . . . and charging . . . unit will . . . light up . . . b – but it . . . will take . . . a f – few . . . hours for it – " Donnie cuts himself off and pauses briefly to presumably rethink his wording before continuing. "For _me_ . . . to f – fully . . . charge."

Once again, I nod. Now I'm the one trying to hold back my grief.

"Raph . . . If this . . . d – doesn't work – "

"It has to work, Donnie." My voice cracks with sorrow I can no longer contain.

I don't want to lose him.

I don't want to be alone.

"If it d – doesn't . . . just know that . . . I . . . I love you."

For the first time in years (at least I think it's been years) I don't hesitate to say those three little words back.

I'm not about to lose another brother without telling him how I feel.

"I love you, too, little brother."

A faint smile creeps across Donnie's face as he reaches over and hits the enter button that I probably would have never been able to. He then settles back down onto the table while the multiple cords connected to his helmet start to glow, indicating the process has begun.

I lean closer to him and take his left hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. He tries to squeeze back, but it's little more than a twitch.

"I w – wish . . . L – Leo . . . and Mikey . . . were . . . here."

"Me, too, Donnie. Me, too."

The distinct sound of death starts to rattle around in my brother's chest, but he still keeps speaking, though his voice is growing softer and softer.

"P – Promise . . . you'll keep . . . l – looking."

" _We'll_ look for them together. You and me. I promise. As soon as you wake up."

"Technically . . . I w – would . . . reactivate . . . once m – my . . . cybercortex . . . is charged."

I'm torn on whether to laugh or cry at this. Even as my genius brother is lying here dying, he's still correcting me when I'm wrong.

"Whatever, brainiac." I try and fail to make my response sound tough. The start of a sob slips out of my throat, but I quickly swallow down the remainder of it, not wanting my little brother to hear me cry.

"Raphie . . . "

Raphie? The name sounds so familiar, but yet, I don't remember anyone ever calling me that before. I'm half-tempted to ask my brother about it when I notice his eyelids are closed.

"Donnie?"

All of a sudden, my brother's hand goes limp in my grasp and the irregular sound of his breathing no longer fills the air.

"Donnie! No!" In a complete panic, I crouch over my brother's now motionless body and realize that I'm at a total loss as to what to do.

Is this what's supposed to happen?

Is this a sign that the process is working or is it too soon?

Should he still be alive during the transfer?

Should I be trying to –

A million and one questions are racing through my head, when all at once, the awful truth sinks in.

He's gone.

My brother's gone.

They're _all_ gone.

Burying my face into Donnie's battered plastron, I finally allow myself to break down. There's no need to keep up appearances anymore. Who do I have to stay strong for now? I just lost my entire family.

A guttural roar rips out of me; verbal proof of my agony. I'm about to completely collapse on top of my little brother when I hear the computer behind me make a short notification sound.

My heart all but stops and I'm instantly standing bolt upright.

What did Donnie say would happen when the tranfer's complete? The computer was supposed to say so, right? But what if things didn't work? What if I turn around and the computer screen says 'operation failed' or something? It would be like losing him all over again, only worse. My last bit of hope would be gone.

I can't bring myself to look. I just can't.

Another round of tears start to form when I notice there now seems to be more light in the rather dimly lit room.

Slowly turning my head, I see that the 'charging unit' is glowing in multiple places.

Now, I may not remember everything that had happened tonight, but I do remember my genius brother saying that the 'charging unit' would light up if the transfer's successful.

Oh, it's lit up, all right.

Wiping the tears out of my eyes, I gaze down at the radiant purple color emanating from the shell-topped charging device, and suddenly, I don't feel so alone.

With a small smirk on my face, I softly pat the metal carapace before me.

"Welcome back, Donnie."

Grabbing a chair from the back corner of the room, I settle down next to my 'new' little brother. Donnie said it would take a few hours for him to charge, and since I'm not about to leave his side, I'm just going to sit here and watch over him, like a big brother should.

Once Donnie 'reactivates,' we'll resume our search efforts, like I promised. Although I'm not sure we'll find what we're looking for.

Maybe our brothers are still out there somewhere. But if they're not, and it's only me and Donnie left – Well, I guess that just means I'm going to have to watch over my little brother that much closer.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Oh my gosh, this story was so gut-wrenching to write. Why do I do this to myself? X'D**_

 ** _I sure hope you liked your early present, Flaux. And I really hope everyone else liked it as well._**

 _ **As always, please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you are enjoying these one-shots. I would truly love to know.**_

 _ **Thank you so much for reading! ;) CJ**_


	17. All That's Left (Apocalypse One-Shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This story is based on the TMNT mutant apocalypse arc. If you have not seen those episodes yet, I recommend watching them before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'All That's Left' Summary:**_ _**Can Michelangelo face the awful reality of a life without his brothers?**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I've finally returned with a new 'TMNT Shell Shot.' It's been a while, hasn't it? I mean, I haven't posted one of these since last year.**_ **XD**

 _ **Okay, moving right along . . .**_

 _ **After sharing my one-shot, 'Better Than None' (chapter 16 of 'TMNT Shell Shots'), I received numerous requests to write additional one-shots based on the apocalypse episodes. This is the first of several stories I hope to write about that arc (if time and inspiration allows). This story is also a companion piece to 'Better Than None,' as well as my upcoming one-shot, 'Even a Chance' (written for Poetique823).**_ **{8**

 _ **Thank you to LittleMiss Icequeen and KikodaTMNTfan for your requests for a story that depicts what happened to Mikey after the M-bomb went off. I hope you like my spin on it.**_

 _ **Thank you all so much for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **All That's Left**

There's so much noise, I can't concentrate. It won't stop, no matter how hard I push my hands against my ears.

I just want it to go away.

I just want it _all_ to go away.

Pulling my legs tighter up against my chest, I press my eyes into my kneepads and let the rough material soak up the tears that keep streaming down my face. With all the debris still raining down from the sky, I know I should probably hide inside the protection of my shell, but for some reason, it feels safer to simply curl up into a ball. And so, I just lie here on my side for what feels like forever, waiting for someone to speak. Waiting to hear something – ANYTHING – other than that dumb siren that keeps ringing!

I know my brothers were right beside me when that weird bomb thingy went off, but I can't hear them.

Why can't I hear them?

It's been like ten minutes now.

Why haven't they asked me if I'm okay yet?

What if it's because _they're_ not okay?

That thought alone makes my whole body start to shake. Well, actually I was already shaking like crazy, but now, I'm shaking way worse than before. Maybe that's because I'm scared out of my shell. Too scared to even open my eyes, so I just keep them sealed tightly shut. I don't want to see what happened. I know it's super bad. Like 'end of the world' bad, because even Leo was crying when the bomb went off. When Leo cries, you _know_ stuff has hit the fan. The only other time I've ever seen my oldest brother cry was when we lost –

Our father . . .

Man, I wish he was here right now. He always knew just what to do to make me feel better.

To make me feel safe . . .

Papa . . .

I miss him so much . . .

My next inhale sounds like a frantic gasp for air and I suddenly find myself wondering just how long I've been holding my breath without even knowing it. Maybe since the bomb had exploded.

I can still see that thing, lifting up into the sky in slow motion, like some kind of freaky, glow-in-the-dark balloon. All I could do was stand there, just staring up at it until it started to drop. A few seconds later, there was this huge burst of light that stung my eyes so much, I thought they'd been fried to a crisp. After that, I remember feeling like my entire body was on fire, and then, without any warning, I was freefalling towards the ground.

Leo – He pushed me and my other brothers out of the way just before he was buried underneath about a gazillion tons of debris. My oldest brother is constantly putting his life at risk just to save us, like he's got a death wish or something. The scary thing is, I think he may have actually gotten his wish this time.

I don't think even Leo could've survived _that_.

This makes my head and stomach start to spin.

What are we supposed to do without Leo?

Then it occurs to me that I don't even know if there is a ' _we_ ' anymore. Maybe that's because I refuse to move from the spot I'm in. I'm too much of a fraidy cat to even open my eyes.

Come on, Mikey! You gotta pull yourself together.

What if Donnie or Raph are seriously hurt and you're just selfishly lying here feeling sorry for yourself?

Prying my eyelids apart, I stare blankly at the carnage surrounding me. Up until now, I thought destruction like this only existed in movies or those rated-M video games that my brothers don't like me playing because they say I'm too 'depressionable.' Now, I don't actually know what 'depressionable' means, but I'm pretty darn sure that the 'M' on those video games must stand for 'mutilation,' on account of all the extra blood and guts. But even all the gory stuff that I've seen in those games I wasn't supposed to playing is nothing compared to what I'm seeing right now.

I'm going to do myself a huge solid and not even attempt to describe it, because if I do, I've got a feeling I'd totally blow chunks all over the place.

All I need to focus on right now is finding my brothers so we can get the heck out of here before I lose it.

Pushing myself up onto my wobbly hands and knees, I start crawling around in search of my three brothers. I immediately feel something running in my eyes, stinging them, but I'm not sure if it's blood or tears. I stop crawling so I can reach a hand towards my face and I soon realize that my mask is gone. It must have come off when I was falling to the ground, or maybe when I landed. Either way, my missing mask explains why my tears keep spilling down. There's nothing to soak them up.

When I pull my hand away from my face, I notice that there's red staining my fingertips, but not enough to scare the crap out of me or anything like that. It's probably just a scratch. No big deal.

Besides, I've got a lot more important things to worry about . . .

"Donnie! Raph! LEO!"

My voice grows in volume with each name I call out. Not because I'm more concerned about one brother than another, but because that stupid siren is doing its best to drown me out. I wish someone would shut that thing off already. It's super annoying. Like worse than squeaky-chalk annoying.

"DONNNNNIIIIIEEEEEEE! RAAAAAAPHHHHHHH! LEEEEEEEEOOOOOOO!" I drag all three of my brothers' names out extra-long this time, just in case they didn't hear me before.

Still, I don't hear anything but that siren.

Dude! I'm freaking out!

Continuing to crawl along the wreckage, I'm about to call out for the guys yet again when I spot one of my brothers from the corner of my eye. Or rather, I spot part of my brother. All I can see is a three-fingered hand jutting up out of the rubble he's buried underneath.

"Donnie?"

Every muscle in my body locks up tight, making movement an impossibility for several of the most agonizing moments of my life. I stare at the familiar hand in wide-eyed disbelieve before scurrying over to scoop it up in my own. My brother's hand is completely limp in my trembling grip.

"Donnie! It's me! Mikey! If you can hear me, squeeze my hand! Okay, bro? You – You don't gotta squeeze hard or anything. Just enough to let me know you can hear my voice. That's all. Please, Donnie!"

There's nothing. Not even a twitch or a flinch.

His hand – It's like ice.

"No." I'm not even sure if I say this word out loud or if it's just inside my head. Not that it really matters . . .

Donnie can't hear me, because he's –

Before I can even complete my morbid thought, reality comes crashing into me like a ton of bricks. I instinctively pull my hand away from my brother's, as though I'd been burned by the physical contact. The way his arm drops lifelessly to the ground breaks my heart into a million pieces.

"Donnie! No. No! N – No!"

Panic now seizing hold of me, I clumsily dig my heels into the ground below and push myself away from my brother's motionless hand, shaking my head in denial as I scoot along the jagged surface. That's when my gaze lands on a familiar green figure lying about twenty feet from where I'm currently sitting.

"R – Raph?"

Forcing myself up onto my unsteady legs, I slowly begin to make my way towards my hotheaded brother. The closer I get to his unmoving form, the more I want to run away screaming.

"Raphie! Wake up! Please, wake up! I – I don't know what to do! Donnie – He won't move! And Leo . . . P – Please, Raph! Please, just do something! I'm so scared! Don't leave me all alone!"

But he doesn't budge. He just lies there; his body twisted and wedged in between several hunks of fallen concrete. No signs of life, just like Donnie.

My brothers . . .

They're –

They're all –

NO!

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

My hands fly up to muffle my grief-stricken sob.

With my whole world now caving in all around me, I turn and I run, as fast as my feet will take me. I'm not even sure why. I just know I need to get away from here. I need to run and never ever turn back.

I can't do this!

I can't!

I can't look at them! Not like _that_ . . .

That's not how I want to remember them.

And so, I keep on running, trying to see through the tears now pouring down in sheets. I run and I run and I run until I finally spot a manhole cover that isn't buried underneath piles of debris.

Slipping down into the sewers, I head for the only place I can think of right now. The only thing I might still have left.

My home. Although it'll never truly be 'home' again.

Not without them . . .

Nothing will _ever_ be the same without them . . .

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Poor, poor Mikey. I hated the thought of him – of all turtles – being without his brothers for such a very long time. That must have been absolutely devastating for him.**_

 _ **Well, I sure hope everyone liked this one. As always, please take the time to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' to let me know if you are enjoying these short stories and whether or not I should continue adding to this collection. I would really, really love the feedback.**_

 _ **Thank you all for reading my stories. I appreciate it more than words can ever say.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_


	18. Regifting (Buried Secrets One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Story Summary: Some things are just better the second time around.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I noticed that February 14**_ _ **th**_ _ **was Apritello day on Tumblr, so I thought I'd write a quick, little Valentine's Day 'Shell Shot' just for the special occasion. This one takes place shortly after the episode 'Buried Secrets.'**_

 _ **I'd like to dedicate this short story to my lovely friend, Glazier Blue. I know she once asked me to write more Apritello pieces, so here you go, my friend. I hope you like it.**_ **8}**

 _ **Thank you very, very much to everyone for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Regifting**

As I stand before April with the small music box clutched in my oversized hands, I'm struck by a rather vivid sense of déjà vu. Not to mention I feel like I'm about to start hyperventilating.

Maybe that's because the last time I presented her with this homemade 'gift,' it hadn't exactly gone well.

To be more precise, it had been one big, huge, giant, _**epic**_ disaster.

That probably explains why April all of a sudden looks like she's going to have a panic attack.

Once again, her reaction is the complete opposite of what I'd been hoping for.

Well, at least she isn't fleeing the scene as though the house is on fire like she did the last time.

I guess I've got that going for me . . .

"Donnie, we need to talk."

This is the understatement of the century.

The two of us haven't really talked since the whole 'Bigfoot' ordeal several weeks ago. I mean, sure, we've spoken to each other, and even exchanged pleasantries here and there, but we haven't 'talked' talked for just about a month now. Not even after the incident with April's pseudo-mom.

It seems like lately, everything is totally different between April and I.

They have been ever since the day she kissed me . . .

It's almost as though we've both been going out of our way to avoid each other because neither one of us knows what to say about what happened.

That's part of the reason why I made April the special Valentine's Day gift I'm now holding in my unsteady hands.

Sometimes, actions speak far louder than words, right?

"Before you say anything, April, I think you should open this." Pressing my lips into what I'm certain is a rather unconvincing smile, I nervously hold the music box out in front of me for her to take.

In her eyes, I see telltale signs of pity and it makes me want to disappear inside my shell. It's the same sympathetic expression she wore the last time I presented her with this gift, just before she practically cast it aside and sprinted out of the farmhouse.

"Donnie, listen. About what happened between us. You know, that day you came to talk to me about being just a mutant and stuff? The thing is, I could . . . I could see you were upset, and I – Well, I – I shouldn't have – "

Keeping one hand on the music box, I hold up my other to stop her mid-sentence. Not because I don't want her to be honest with me. I always do. It's just that I don't want her to see my heart break over what I'm pretty sure she was about to say.

I care about her more than she will ever know.

That was why I had gone to her that day.

And that was why I had been willing to let her go.

All I've ever wanted is for her to be happy.

Even it isn't with me . . .

Even if the only reason she had kissed me that day was because she felt sorry for me . . .

"Please, just open it, April. Trust me."

Though there's still hesitation clearly written on her face, she takes my offering into her delicate hands. A silent testament of her faith in me, which makes me feel a thousand times better than I did just a few seconds ago.

I wait with baited breath for her response; still a bit paranoid that history will once again repeat itself.

But all my worrying is for nothing.

As soon as April lifts up the lid of the music box, she lets out a dramatic gasp and her big, blue eyes instantly fill with tears. She then cups her right palm over her mouth as if to hold back the flood of emotions that just hit her.

It's finally the reaction I'd been hoping for.

"Where – Where did you get these things?" Her voice is just louder than a whisper, tender and sweet, as she pulls her hand away from her face so she can sift through the various contents of the wooden box. The way she lovingly gazes down at what's inside causes my heart to skip several beats.

She really is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.

When I finally realize that I'm just standing here staring at her – and quite possibly drooling – I rub the back of my neck sheepishly and clear my throat a couple of times before answering her question.

"I stumbled across them when I was cleaning up around the barn the other day. I, uh, thought you might like to keep them inside the music box I made rather than in the dingy, old cigar box I found them in. Oh, and just so you know, I had to take out the movement parts of the music box in order to fit everything, so I guess it's not technically a music box anymore, is it? Heh, heh. I hope you don't mind."

Shimmering eyes still welling with tears, April traces her fingertips over the slightly faded image of her mother that is now affixed to the spot where my picture had once been. Inside the former music box are additional portraits of April's family, as well as a dainty, oval-shaped, silver locket that I'd carefully polished to like-new condition.

April lets out another little gasp before peering up at me with a look on her face that I can only describe as stunning.

"Mind? It's the best Valentine's Day gift ever! I love it, Donnie! Thank you so much!"

Feeling April suddenly throw her arms around me and pull me into a fierce hug tells me that things between us are going to be just fine.

Granted, I still may not understand how she truly feels about me, and maybe I never will. But so long as she's happy, that will always be enough for me.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Awwww! Donnie is such a hopeless romantic. Even though I'm happily married, I would jump at the chance to be Donatello's Valentine. I adore him!**_

 _ **Thank you all so much for reading this one-shot. As always, please favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you want to read more of these short stories. I always love hearing from all of you.**_

 _ ***Special Note: A huge thank you to everyone who checked out the new chapter of 'Slash's Revenge.' FanFiction was having some serious technical difficulties the day I posted the chapter, so in case I missed anyone's feedback, thank you so very much to all of you.**_

 _ **Happy Valentine's Day!**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_


	19. Even a Chance (Apocalypse One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This story is based on the TMNT mutant apocalypse arc. If you have not seen those episodes yet, I recommend watching them before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Even a Chance' Summary:**_ _**Realizing that there's nothing he and brothers can do to stop the mutagen bomb coming towards them, Leonardo is forced to make a gut-wrenching decision.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm back with another new 'Shell Shot.' This one is the third installment of my mutant apocalypse collection and it ties in with my previous apocalypse one-shots, 'Better Than None' and 'All That's Left' (chapters 16 and 17 of 'TMNT Shell Shots').**_

 _ **I would like to dedicate this story to one of my greatest writing inspirations ever. Poetique823, this one is for you. Thank you so much for the story suggestion and for being here for me right from the start. Your kindness is infectious and your talent knows no bounds. I love you, girl! You are so amazing and I will always look up to you.**_ **8}**

 _ **Okay, before I get too emotional and start 'ugly' crying, let's move onto the story.**_

 _ **Thank you all for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Even a Chance**

For a moment, it feels as though the entire universe has gone completely still. Legs frozen in place, I stare up at the strange device suspended high above me, almost hypnotized by the ominous pale glow it's casting over the city.

It seems somewhat ironic – if not bittersweet – that the sky is drenched in a greenish haze.

The whole scene is rather breathtaking, but not in a good way.

All those times we've saved the world from certain destruction . . .

 _This_ . . .

This is where it ends.

Despite our best efforts, we failed.

No.

 _I_ failed.

Failed to stop _this_ from happening.

Failed to protect _them_.

I glance over my shoulder to see my three brothers lined up behind me, clinging to their weapons for dear life while they anxiously await my orders. Their eyes reflect an unmistakable glint of fear as they gaze up at the bomb now slowly starting to make its descent towards us, but their aggressive posture tells me a different story. One that vows they have my shell, no matter what.

They _always_ have . . .

Raphael. The bravest of warriors. He would rather die than ever see one of us hurt.

Donatello. The smartest person I've ever known. And so much stronger than he thinks he is.

Michelangelo. The constant light in the darkness that we have seen. Eternally seeking out the good in everything.

Through thick and thin, the three of them have stood beside me. Even now, as we look upon our final fate.

Tears begin to sting my eyes and I return my attention back to the bomb, if only just to keep my brothers from seeing that I, too, am scared.

Guess I'm not so 'fearless' after all . . .

But I'm not scared of my own death. What I'm actually scared of is losing them.

I remember the agony of having to watch them die in a nightmare. I cannot bear the thought of going through that awful feeling again.

I know exactly what I have to do, but the shrill sound of the siren blaring in the distance and the rampant beating of my heart are making it difficult to focus.

Time is running out. The heat sweeping over me as the bomb draws nearer is evidence of that.

With each passing second, the burning sensation gets more and more intense. To the point that the pain is verging on excruciating.

A burst of blinding, white light fills the night sky, informing me that it's now or never.

I turn to face my brothers, one last time. My expression a mix of immense sadness, gratitude, and pride. My tears a silent testament of how much I love them.

I would do anything for them.

 _Anything_!

Even if it means never seeing them again.

A sob gets stuck behind the lump swelling inside my throat, and suddenly, speaking is an impossibility.

My brothers look more determined than ever, no doubt ready to die with honor by my side.

But I'm not about to let them.

Not so long as there's still breath in my body.

Not when there's a chance they might survive this, however miniscule that chance may be.

It's still something.

And so, with every last ounce of strength I'm able to summon from within, I lunge forward and forcibly shove the three of them as far away from the incoming bomb as I can. Far enough away to ensure that they can't stop me from doing what's best for them. Granted, in their eyes, my actions may not seem like what's best, but in time, I hope they'll come to understand why I did this.

I just pray on all that's good and pure that they survive the fall.

I don't care about what happens to me. Only them.

Please, for the love of life, let them make it . . .

I watch on with unconcealed grief as my brothers tumble backwards over the ledge of the building. The very same building that I'm still standing on when the blast finally goes off.

My brothers desperately cry out my name, reaching up towards me while they drift further and further away, swallowed up by the shadows below and the rubble from above. Their voices soon fade, as does the heat, the light, and eventually, the pain.

And then, there's nothing.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I know this one's a bit short, but I was trying to show just how little time poor Leo had to make such a heartbreaking decision. Not that his decision was all that surprising to anyone. The 'fearless' leader was always willing to sacrifice himself in order to save his brothers. Good old, true-blue Leonardo.**_

 _ **Thanks, again, to Poetique823 for the wonderful story suggestion and for putting up with my constant fangirling. I know that I can't possibly hold a candle to you, but I pray that I did you proud, my friend.**_

 _ **I truly hope everyone enjoyed this one-shot. If you did, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots.' I always look forward to hearing from all of you. Thanks so much for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

 _ ****Special Note: A great, big thank you to everyone who checked out my Valentine's Day Apritello one-shot ('Regifting') last week. I really, really appreciate it. *hugs***_ **C=**


	20. Promises Broken (Metalhead Rewired)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Summary: He had watched his invention selflessly save them all. So why does Donatello still feel as though he failed everyone?**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I've finally returned with a new 'TMNT Shell Shot' and this one is an epilogue for the episode 'Metalhead Rewired.' Thank you so much to MoonlightAnimator23 for the story request. Sorry it took so long…**_

 _ **Special thanks to my creative consultant, Captain Vegeta, and my beta reader, Joanne N. Grey. You girls are the glue that holds me together. I love you both to the moon and back.**_

 _ **I also want to give a heartfelt thank you to everyone who nominated and voted for my stories in**_ ** _the 2017 TMNT Universal Reader's Choice Awards._** ** _I consider myself incredibly blessed to have so many wonderful friends and readers._** ** _*hugs*_**

 ** _I would like to dedicate this story to my immensely talented friend, Crimson-Eyes26. She has been so very supportive of me from the start and I am eternally grateful for her endless kindness. Thank you so much, my friend._**

 _ **I sure hope everyone enjoys this one-shot. It's a bit angsty.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Promises Broken**

I can hear the distinct roar of laughter outside my lab. The heavy metal doors separating me from the rest of the world are doing little more than soften the voices I'm desperately trying to escape.

Pffft! Sound-proof, my shell…

The echo of amusement hanging in the air is the equivalent of pouring salt in an open wound. I know that my brothers aren't deliberately trying to hurt me. They're merely recapping the strange events of the night for our father and one can't help but to chuckle whenever my baby brother puts his colorful spin on things, but the sound of their merriment burns nevertheless.

Sinking deeper into my chair, I stare down at the reason for my rather gloomy mood. A pair of trapezoid eyes staring back at me, cold and dead. My fingertips absently trace the contours of his lifeless face and the brief contact makes a lump start to solidify in my throat.

In the back of my mind, I can still see the light flickering out of those now-black eyes and it makes a fresh round of tears start to prick my own.

Despite my best efforts to stifle a sob, a small squeak, not unlike a hiccup, slips past my defenses. As if of its own accord, my right hand flies up to smother what's left of the noise that I gulp back down.

Not that anyone would hear it…

Not them _._

Certainly not _him_.

As if on cue, the laughter on the other side of the doors starts to fade away, but I know my brothers are still talking about what happened. Their suddenly somber tones tell me as much. No doubt they've reached the part of the story that's making it so hard for me to breathe right now.

As I sit here trying in vain to tune them out, I notice one voice in particular seems louder than the rest. Maybe that's because it's the same belittling voice that keeps ringing inside my brain…

" _What's wrong with him now?"_

Those words cut like the sharpest of blades. Even more so now than when they'd first been uttered by my oldest brother.

The 'him' Leo had been referring to had been Metalhead, whose disembodied head now lies on my desk. Nothing more than an oversized paperweight at this point.

For months, I had been working on upgrading 'him.'

For months, I had been trying to fix everything that had been wrong with 'him' the first time.

For months, I had foolishly thought that making 'him' better could somehow redeem me in all three of my brothers' eyes.

But even though Metalhead had managed to save us all tonight, I still feel like I failed everyone.

Letting out a weary sigh, I can't help but to glance over my shoulder at the frozen remains of 'The Pulverizer.' His eerie eyes are almost as vacant as Metalhead's. They have been ever since I failed to save him from himself. Another fine example of my incompetence.

I'm supposed to be the smart one. The one who's allegedly a real whiz at fixing things, but all I seem to be good at lately is letting everyone down.

Especially Leo…

I can still hear his condescending comments, taunting me…

" _Tickle ray? Real useful upgrade, Donnie."_

" _Great, Donnie. Great. Not only did we lose the Kraang, but Metalhead blew up our only clue to where they went."_

" _Ah, Donnie, I told you he was dangerous! Now he's probably out there trashing the city!"_

I had understood Leonardo's obvious misgivings about Metalhead. I mean, Metalhead _did_ try to kill all of us, but that didn't make my oldest brother's biting remarks any easier to hear. All that hard work and effort I'd put into upgrading Metalhead's artificial intelligence; Leo wouldn't even give him a chance.

Then, it occurs to me that maybe it wasn't actually Metalhead that Leo didn't trust.

Maybe it was me.

After all, it's my fault that Metalhead attacked my brothers to begin with.

My fault that Timothy is a blobsicle.

My fault that Mr. O'Neil is a mindless bat.

My fault that April is without her father.

My fault that my own father is still a mutant.

All these promises I've made; I haven't kept a one.

I haven't given anyone a reason to trust me.

As I turn my stare back towards my desk, another sigh deflates out of me, nearly drowning out the faint knock against my lab doors. I don't respond to the sound, hoping the person knocking will take the hint, but as the so-called genius of the family, I should really know better.

My siblings _never_ take a hint…

As soon as my oldest brother walks into the lab, I regret the fact that I neglected to lock the doors earlier. It would've spared me from the highly awkward conversation that's about to take place. The tentativeness in Leo's footsteps as he approaches my desk tells me this is going to be painful.

I quickly shift my gaze onto my computer monitor and pretend to be reading something, when in all actuality, I'm just staring at the desktop screen to avoid eye contact. Realizing that Leo oftentimes likes to stand right next to me when he comes into the lab, I promptly open up a search engine and click on one of my many bookmarks. Just before my brother makes his way over to my desk, I scroll down several inches from the top of the webpage so as not to arouse any suspicion. I then narrow my eyes in concentration, to make things even more convincing. If I'm about to tell him I'm conducting some research when he asks me if I'm okay, I darn well better look the part.

"Hey Donnie. You, uh, haven't come out of your lab since we got back to the lair. 'You okay?"

Not really…

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just doing a little research." Yes, I'm well aware that my response is not entirely truthful, but answering the question honestly would only suffice to make this little chat even more unpleasant than it already is. Hey, I'm doing us both a huge favor here. My brother should be thanking me for lying.

When I finally peer up at Leo, I notice he glances over at my screen for a split second before his steely eyes are fixed on me again, causing every muscle in my body to tense up all at once. The expression on my brother's face is one I've seen many times in my relatively short life span. It's the 'if you don't tell me what's bothering you, I'm going to just stand here and stare at you until you do' look.

I really, _really_ hate this look, as would any other true, blue introvert.

Neatly folding his arms across his plastron, Leo strikes his classic leader pose and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to do a facepalm over the predictability of it all.

"Listen, Donnie. I know you're still upset about what happened tonight."

At these words, my bleary gaze once again makes its way back to my computer monitor and I have to swallow thickly before I can offer up my response.

"It's all right, Leo. I was gonna shut down Metalhead's A.I. anyway, remember? You told me to."

Now there's a conversation I'll never forget…

" _Donnie. You gotta shut down his A.I."_

" _Shut down his A.I.? But that would be like turning off his brain."_

" _He's just too dangerous."_

" _We need him, Leo. The Kraang and the Foot are armed up more than ever."_

" _It's not worth the risk. Metalhead was glitchy before he plugged into that Kraang computer. He was taken over by the Kraang once already. Are you sure you can trust him?"_

" _Maybe you're right. Ahhh, I'll take care of it."_

" _Sorry, Donnie."_

The sound of Leo gruffly clearing his throat pulls me out of my troubled thoughts, but it doesn't pull my eyes away from my monitor. I'm afraid if I look at him, he'll see right through my façade.

"About that, Donnie. I was wrong to ask you to shut him down."

But yet, you had no qualms with – Wait! Did Leo just actually admit to being wrong?

Spinning my chair ninety degrees, I stare up at Leo and see a frown rutting deep lines into his face. His somber expression is a far cry from earlier in the evening when he bore a scowl every time he looked at me.

For a fleeting second, I actually consider opening up to him about what happened, but then, I hear my oldest brother's snarky comments repeating inside my head yet again…

" _You sure? Training with Metalhead usually ends in him breaking something."_

" _What's wrong with him now?"_

" _Metalhead, stay with the Shellraiser before you blow anything else up."_

" _Real useful upgrade, Donnie."_

" _Great, Donnie. Great."_

" _Ah, Donnie, I told you he was dangerous!"_

The bitter memory of what Leo had said instantly builds my emotional walls right back up.

"It hardly matters. Everything worked out in the end." The tone of my voice falls flat, holding no trace of anger or hurt. Just as much of a lie as the actual words themselves.

Of course, my brother's reaction to my impassive response is to arch an eye ridge, clearly trying his darnedest to read me, but I'm trying just as hard to keep myself illegible.

"I wouldn't exactly say _everything_ worked out." Before he even finishes his sentence, Leo's gaze drops down to my desk to lay eyes on what remains of Metalhead. A silent, unnecessary clarification of what exactly didn't work out.

Like I need reminding!

"We were able to get everyone back home, weren't we?" Again, my response lacks any actual emotion, cold and detached. An automatic defense shield I put up to keep Leo from getting in.

"Well, yeah… But we lost Metalhead."

That last line stings enough to make me flinch, but I'm quick to transition the involuntary movement into a voluntary one with relative ease, making it look as though I was simply spinning my chair back towards my computer. I then wrap a hand around my mouse and start clicking away, as though I'm already done with the conversation.

"Can we not talk about this right now, Leo? I really need to get back to my work."

"Avoiding the problem isn't going to solve anything, Donnie."

The sound of my mouse clicking immediately stops, as does the beating of my heart for a few panic-stricken seconds. Though my brother hasn't moved from the spot he's in, his close proximity suddenly seems much more intimidating than just moments before. And so, I fix my eyes straight ahead, all the while, trying to keep my outward appearance indifferent.

"I – I'm not avoiding anything." That sounded about as convincing as Mikey claiming, 'I didn't do it!' I'm sure there's a skeptical look on my oldest brother's face to serve as living proof of that, but I refuse to look up and see it. Maybe that's because, deep down inside, I know he's right.

"So, does that mean you're gonna try rebuilding him?"

My brother's question is strikingly similar to the one he had asked me not long after Metalhead had sacrificed himself to save us…

" _Do you think you'll try building another Metalhead?"_

As I ponder the inquiry once again, it occurs to me that I'm even more uncertain about my answer than I was before.

It's not a question of _if_ I could rebuild him. It's a question of _should_ I rebuild him.

" _He's just too dangerous."_

" _It's not worth the risk."_

For the first time since the start of this conversation I finally give my brother a sincere answer.

"I don't know, Leo."

How can he expect me to go through that again?

"Donnie."

The second syllable of my nickname softens into a low whisper, causing me to look back up at Leo. It's obvious that he's at a rare loss for words, which makes the moment all the more uncomfortable.

I have to pause for several seconds, struggling to find the words myself.

Heck, even if I could find the words, Leo would never truly understand.

How could he?

He's the perfect one. The one we all look up to. The one I've always wanted to be like.

He doesn't have a clue what it feels like to fail.

He never lets anyone down.

That's _my_ job.

My brother's voice sounds out again, but it somehow seems more distant than before. Like he's all of a sudden on the other side of the room when I can plainly see he's still standing beside me. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

No. No, I can't.

Not without making you even more disappointed in me.

"Yeah, I know."

"If something's bothering you, Donnie…" Leo leaves the sentence hanging, assuming that I'm going to spill my guts. Just like that.

He really should know me better than that by now.

Silence is my response, but based on my brother's frustrated expression, it's not an acceptable answer.

"Donnie, say something."

"What exactly do you want me to say, Leo?" My question doesn't sound anything like I'd intended it to. Sure, there's a slightly sharp edge to it, but the air of defeat stands out more than anything else.

Awww, yet another failure.

I'm about to get lost in my thoughts, as usual, when Leo lightly grabs hold of my wrist. My natural reaction is to pull my arm away, but my brother anticipates this and tightens his grip, making escape an impossibility. "I want you to promise me you'll try to rebuild him."

Again, comes the usage of the word 'him,' and again, Leo's harsh words repeat inside my brain…

" _What's wrong with him now?"_

My heart sinks about level with my ankles. "I can't promise you that."

"Why not?"

Because I don't want to let you down again…

I'm unable to bring myself to say those actual words. Instead, I put up yet another false front.

It's just easier than telling him the truth.

"Because I've got a ton of other things I should be working on that come first."

Leo opens his mouth to speak, but noticeably hesitates, no doubt rethinking his response.

I guess I'm not the only one guilty of bottling things up inside.

Sometimes, I wish Leo wasn't so obsessed with always being the textbook leader. Maybe then, we could have an honest conversation for once, instead of just mechanically going through the motions to create this illusion of closeness.

At times, it feels like we don't even know each other…

The hold on my wrist lets up and I hear Leo heave out a long, deliberate breath before he finally replies.

"Well, can you promise me that you'll at least think about it?" Just the right blend of sympathy and concern etched on my brother's face makes it impossible to say 'no' to this request.

"Yeah. I – I'll think about it. I promise."

"I'm glad." With that said, Leo flashes me a knowing smile and turns to leave, taking confident strides as if he just solved all my problems.

I only wish it were that simple.

It never is…

While I watch my oldest brother walk away, I can't help but wonder if I just made yet another promise that I won't keep.

How many more of those am I going to make before someone finally calls my bluff?

The rather loud sound of the doors sliding shut snaps me out of my thoughts and makes me shudder.

I can hear that my family is standing just outside of the lab, and still, I've never felt so alone.

My gaze once again lands on Metalhead and something else Leonardo said to me tonight suddenly replays in the back of my mind…

" _He saved all of us. You're right, Donnie. I should've trusted you."_

This makes tears start to soak my mask.

He _did_ save all of us.

But I couldn't save _him_.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Oh my gosh, Donnie can be such a tragic character. He always takes things to heart and sometimes carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. The poor kid.**_

 _ **A little background on 'Promises Broken'… I actually used a quote from 'Lost in the Fight' as my inspiration behind this story. I don't know if any of you remember this line or not, but when speaking of his second youngest son, Master Splinter said, "Leonardo, what Donatello says and what Donatello thinks are two entirely different entities." In 'Promises Broken,' I wanted to really showcase how Donatello thinks one thing, but says something completely different. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I managed to pull that off.**_

 _ **Well, I sure hope everyone liked this one. As always, please take the time to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' to let me know if you are enjoying these short stories. I would really, really love the feedback.**_

 _ **Thank you all for reading my stories. I appreciate it more than words can ever say.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_


	21. Blessings (Lone Rat and Cubs One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Story Summary: An unexpected visitor in the middle of the night reminds Master Splinter just how fortunate he truly is.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm super excited to share this new 'TMNT Shell Shot' with everyone. This one takes place after the episode 'Lone Rat and Cubs.' It's my first official turtle tots story and it's chock-full of ooey-gooey cuteness. You have been warned.**_ **XD**

 _ **I want to thank LittleMiss Icequeen for the wonderful story suggestions. I combined three of her 'Shell Shot' requests (a turtle tots story, a story where all four brothers are sick, and a story from Master Splinter's POV) into this short one-shot. I'm really hoping everyone enjoys how the story turned out.**_

 _ **Thank you very, very much to my beta reader, Joanne N. Grey, and my creative consultant, Captain Vegeta. You two are the best buddies a girl could ask for. I love you both, lots and lots and lots.**_

 _ **Last, but certainly not least, thanks so much to my readers. This story is dedicated to each and every one of you, for you are all such blessings to me. I also want to dedicate this one to all the dads out there celebrating Father's Day. You guys rock!**_

 _ **Okay, on with the story...**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Blessings**

Being the single father of four growing boys can be quite challenging at times. As a grand master in the art of Ninjutsu, I am rather ashamed to admit there are some days I can hardly keep up with my little ones. Today was definitely one of those days. Exhaustion has taken its toll on my weary bones and I am in desperate need of some sleep. Marking my page in the novel I have futilely been attempting to read for the past half hour or so, I set the book down on the crate beside my bed. Just as I am about to turn in for the night, a shadow slowly creeps its way inside the doorway, followed by a pair of clumsy, oversized feet, far too big for the small child they carry.

Big, innocent, blue eyes stare up at me, wider than they should be considering the delicate hour.

"Michelangelo, it is much too late for you to be wandering about the lair. Why are you not in bed?"

What my youngest child does not realize is that I am currently thanking my lucky stars that I just so happened to stray from my normal schedule tonight. This is ordinarily the time I sneak up to the surface to forage for food and miscellaneous supplies. It is not the safest practice to leave the children alone; I am well aware of this. But seeing as how it is dangerous for any of us to venture topside during daytime hours, I have no other choice but to temporarily leave the boys unsupervised while they are fast asleep.

Tonight, however, I chose to stay home. A decision I should obviously be eternally grateful for, because who knows what kind of mischief my youngest boy could have gotten into had I been out scavenging.

Clinging tightly to a tattered teddy bear that accompanies him everywhere he goes, Michelangelo moves across the room in short, graceless strides. "Couldn' sweep. Ow-nie keeps snowing too wowd."

Of my four boys, Michelangelo has always been the most talkative one by far and away, but he continues to struggle with sounding out certain consonants, despite my best efforts to help him. If he was a human child, I am sure his speech impediment could easily be corrected by a professional of some sort. As it is, I am forced to try to translate his somewhat peculiar language. I honestly believe I have gotten quite good at it, if I do say so myself.

"I see. And how are you feeling, my son?"

Michelangelo blinks at me several times before a huge smile lights up his round, freckled face as well as my heavy heart. "Bettoh. My nose isn' weaking or bwhoa-ing bubbas no mow."

"I am most pleased to hear this. But even though you are feeling better, Michelangelo, it is still very important that you get plenty of rest."

"When-oh my bwahdohs get bettoh, papa?"

Now, it is my turn to smile and I affectionately pat the top of Michelangelo's bald head for his thoughtfulness.

The past few days, the boys have been fighting what I believe to be a stubborn virus of some sort. Michelangelo was the first to come down with the ailment, followed by Leonardo, then Donatello, and finally, Raphael. While Michelangelo appears to be on the mend at this point, his three brothers continue to exhibit symptoms of the virus, including runny noses, sore throats, chest congestion, and in Donatello's case, a low-grade fever. They have been quite miserable, and as a result, I have basically been run ragged, trying to tend to their needs.

"Soon, Michelangelo. Soon. Until then, we must try to keep them comfortable and make sure they, too, get plenty of rest."

I crouch down and scoop Michelangelo up into my arms, cradling him against my chest as though he is still an infant. He immediately snuggles up to me and lets out a small sigh of content. Something his older brothers no longer do when I pick them up. They are apparently already 'too big' for such things. That is why I must enjoy my youngest child's generous affections while they last.

It is true what they say about children growing up too fast. But it is extraordinarily precious and rewarding to watch them do so.

I only wish I would have been given the chance to experience this with my Miwa…

No sooner do I feel tears start to prick my eyes than I hear a tiny voice call out to me, snapping me out of my somber thoughts.

"Papa?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Can we check on Waphie and Wee-oh befoh bed?"

I nod my consent and press a finger to my lips to wordlessly 'shush' my youngest. Michelangelo nods in return and proudly runs his pinched fingers across his mouth in a 'zipper' gesture. Confident my son understands the importance of remaining quiet, I head towards the boys' bedrooms, making sure to keep my footfalls completely silent.

When we first made our home here in this abandoned subway station, hidden deep underneath the crowded streets of New York City, the boys slept in the same room as I did. But as they grew bigger and less dependent on my constant presence, I decided it was necessary to adjust our sleeping arrangements to better suit our needs. I paired the children up, with my two oldest boys sharing one room and my two youngest sharing another. Although, as of late, it has become increasingly evident that Leonardo and Raphael are not a good match. The two of them seem to have a difficult time getting along, no matter how much I scold them for their undesirable behavior.

It may soon be time to give each boy their own 'space.'

But I digress…

Fōkasu, Yoshi. Fōkasu.

Like a ghost, I slip through the door of my two eldest boys' room and peer inside. My nostrils are instantly greeted by the distinct and pleasant scent of lavender and eucalyptus. Natural remedies I utilized, hoping they might help soothe the children to sleep.

It appears to be working, for I can hear the sound of both boys softly snoring in their beds.

As to be expected, Raphael's covers look as though they have been run through the wringer, twisted into a disheveled pile at his feet. Even in his slumber, my second oldest boy shows outward signs of aggression. The grimace currently etched on his face attests to that.

Leonardo, on the other hand, is still neatly tucked in, resting in what looks to be the same position I left him in when I settled him down for the night. His expression is serene with sleep and his breathing seems to have significantly improved from earlier in the evening. This is a good sign. Perhaps it means that the worst of the illness has come to pass and the boys are now on the road to recovery.

What a relief that would be…

Afraid of lingering too long, I slowly back through the doorway with Michelangelo in tow. Once outside of the bedroom, I set my youngest son down and point towards the room he and Donatello occupy before giving him another 'shush' for good measure. Michelangelo oftentimes requires additional reminding.

The boy's heart is always in the right place; his head is another story.

Following Michelangelo inside his bedroom, my eyes immediately fall upon the sleeping form of my second youngest child and I cannot help but to frown. The wheeze in each breath Donatello takes tells me his lungs are still clogged by whatever illness continues to plague him. Regret fills my entire being as I stand here wishing I could provide a better life for all of them. The sewers are most certainly not an appropriate place to raise small children, but I must remember that true strength comes from one's ability to adapt to the hand they have been dealt.

Fate can be both cruel and kind at the same time. The key is to recognize the blessings from the curses and hold onto those blessings for dear life.

I feel a soft tug on my kimoto and peer down to lock eyes with my youngest son's once again. His mouth turns down into a slight frown – perhaps meant to mimic my own – but the sad expression only lasts a few fleeting seconds before he excitedly asks, "Is Ow-nie bettow yet?"

"I am afraid your brother is still not feeling well, my son." My voice is whisper soft, so as not to rouse poor Donatello.

"But he's sweeping. How can you taoh?"

"You see how red his cheeks are? It means he is most likely running a temperature."

"Wha's a tem – a tempohshoh?"

If there is one thing that raising the boys has taught me, it is that actions oftentimes speak far louder than words.

"Here. Place your hand on Donatello's forehead. Make sure to be gentle. We do not want to wake him."

Michelangelo lifts a small, three-fingered hand up and ever-so-carefully rests it across Donatello's forehead, clearly concerned about the potential of disturbing his brother's slumber. My second youngest son shifts restlessly in his sleep, but settles down after just a few moments and even starts to lean into his little brother's tender touch.

"What do you feel, my son?"

"I's wa'm."

"Now, feel my forehead." I bend down to give Michelangelo easier access. His eyes twinkle like freshly fallen snow as he presses his palm to my brow, eager to follow my instructions.

"I's wa'm, too. Papa sick?"

My features automatically soften when I see the worry suddenly written across Michelangelo's face. He takes a fearful step backwards, like he is unsure what to make of this new information, but I am quick to offer him solace.

"No, little one. I am not sick. I was only trying to show you that your brother has a fever."

"Wha's a fevoh?"

"A fever. It means that his body temperature is unusually high."

"Why?"

I pull my lips into a tired smile, knowing the routine all too well. It is not unusual for my boys to relentlessly interrogate me for further information, with Donatello and Michelangelo generally being the most relentless about it. But whereas Donatello asks questions because he is curious by nature and keen to learn more about the world around him, Michelangelo questions everything because he seems to crave attention, and sometimes, I believe he just likes to hear the sound of his own voice.

"You and your brothers have what is known as a cold."

"But you said Ow-nie have a fevoh."

My lips curl up into a droll, little smirk when it occurs to me that I have essentially just been 'one-upped' by a toddler.

"Yes, I did say that. But a cold is not named so because of one's temperature."

I stop mid-explanation to take a prolonged moment to contemplate the remainder of my response. Explaining this concept to my young son will be no simple task.

"Sometimes, the English language can be rather… confusing. There are many words that sound the same, and in some cases, are even spelled the same, but they mean completely different things. For example, the word 'cold' can refer to both a cool temperature as well as an illness. Do you understand what I am saying?"

The vacant expression on Michelangelo's face serves as my answer.

"Perhaps this conversation would be better left until morning."

"No! No, I get it, papa. Maybe we jus' need to come up wif ow own names for fings."

"Maybe. But right now, it is time for you to go to bed, my son."

Scrunching his face up for a moment, Michelangelo appears to be deep in thought. He then hurriedly approaches his older brother's bed and pulls the heavy blanket up higher so that all of Donatello is covered except for his head. Donatello seems to relax at this and unconsciously hums his appreciation as he curls up under his comforter. The movement makes his snoring diminish into nothing more than a quiet whistle. A peaceful sound that should help lull my youngest to sleep.

"Nigh-nigh, Ow-nie."

Clearly satisfied with his efforts, Michelangelo spins on his heels and climbs up into his own bed with relative ease. And to think, just a few weeks ago, he needed assistance with this feat.

They grow up too fast, indeed.

As Michelangelo sinks into his mattress and lovingly nuzzles his stuffed bear, he peers up at me through now droopy eyelids. It is obvious that he is already dozing off when he faintly mumbles, "I wuv you, papa."

I have to pause for breath before I am able to reciprocate.

"I love you, too, little one." With that said, I plant a kiss on Michelangelo's forehead and noiselessly pad out of the room, knowing that four of the most amazing blessings I have ever been given are now sleeping soundly in their beds.

How truly fortunate I am.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this story delivered some major 'awwwww' moments. LMK.**_

 _ **As always, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' if you are enjoying these short stories and want to see more of them. The feedback means so much to me. Far more than I can say. Thank you all for reading. *hugs* CJ**_

 _ ***Special Note: A great big thanks to everyone who checked out the latest chapter of 'Slash's Revenge' and sent me thoughtful birthday well wishes. I appreciate it very, very, very much.**_ **;)**


	22. Things in Common (Monster Arc One-shot)

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.**_

 _ ***Spoiler Alert: This story is based on the TMNT monster arc. If you have not seen those episodes yet, I recommend watching them before reading any further.**_

* * *

 _ ***'Things in Common' Summary: Donatello discovers that he and Raphael have a lot more in common than he thought.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm back with a brand-new 'Shell Shot' and this one takes place shortly after the episode 'Monsters Among Us!' I**_ _ **love**_ _ **the middle brothers, so I just couldn't resist writing a little bonding moment between them after the whole vampire saga.**_

 _ **Virtual hugs and cookies to my beta reader, Joanne N. Grey, and my creative consultant, Captain Vegeta. Truth be told, there aren't enough hugs or cookies in the world to express my gratitude to these two lovely ladies.**_

 _ **I want to dedicate this story to the amazingly wonderful IvoryS-J. You have been such a gift and an ongoing inspiration to me, my friend. Thank you with all my heart for always being here for me. I adore you.**_

 _ **Also, a big thanks to all my readers. I hope everyone enjoys this story.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Things in Common**

Okay, I'm pretty sure I'm about to get my shell kicked into the next millennium here, so there are a couple things I want to get off my plastron before I'm pummeled into a catatonic state.

First off, this was a _**horrible**_ idea! No! Scratch that. Horrible doesn't even begin to describe it. This was just plain stupid. Like 'dumber than Casey' level stupid! I don't know what the heck I was thinking, coming up here to talk to my hotheaded brother. I mean, no one in their right mind would _EVER_ accuse Raphael and I of being close. A more fitting way to define our relationship would be that we tolerate each other the best we can. I would even go so far as to say the two of us are pretty much polar opposites in every possible way. I like to fix things; he likes to break things. I like to use my head; he likes to use his fists. I like to take my time; he likes to yell at me and threaten to smack the green off me for taking my time.

Anyway, I think I've probably made my point. That being, Raph and I aren't exactly chummy. You get the idea.

Still, despite the many, _many_ differences between us, I feel like I'm the only one who actually understands what my brother's going through right now. Theoretically speaking, of course.

That's why I volunteered to go after him and try to calm him down.

Crazy, right? I know. Definitely not the wisest decision I've ever made, but in all honesty, I didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. I wasn't about to let Leo volunteer. Not after what had happened back at the lair. And I _**certainly**_ wasn't going to let Mikey do it. Raph would pound him into next Thursday.

Sending me was the only logical option.

Only, now that I'm standing here, alone on a rooftop with my already agitated, highly explosive brother, I'm not feeling quite so logical. Actually, the word 'shellhead' comes to mind.

I have to internalize a sigh, so as not to spook my hotheaded brother. I don't want to do anything to set him off.

Easier said – or 'thought' – than done.

Raphael had stormed out of the lair about twenty minutes ago; just moments after what was supposed to be an innocent sparring session with our oldest brother had turned into yet another brutal confrontation. While it's not all that unusual for Raph and Leo to occasionally try to pound each other's teeth in, something was definitely off about this particular fight. To be more specific, something was definitely off with Raphael. Sure, he had fought with his typical intense, aggressive style, but the way he kept staring at Leo during the fight was more than a little unsettling. It was like Raph didn't even see Leo right there in front of him. Almost as if he was looking at someone or something else. And then, all of a sudden, Raph just up and left, without so much as a word. Right in the middle of the fight. Again, it isn't all that unusual for Raph to lose his temper and stomp off in a huff, but this was different. We all recognized that something wasn't quite right with Raph. Well, maybe not Mikey so much. He seemed more concerned about who was going to get Raph's share of the pizza he had ordered.

Anyway, it took me a few minutes, but I somehow managed to convince Leo that I should be the one to go after Raph on my own. I was actually kind of surprised my oldest brother went along with it, but then again, he knew there would be potential 'I told you so' rights involved. I'm willing to bet that that had something to do with his decision.

Long story short, here I am.

Thanks to the handy-dandy tracking device I installed in all our T-phones, finding Raph was a piece of cake.

I just wish talking to him was that easy…

As I cautiously approach Raph from the side, I notice his feet are dangling over the edge of the building like he's dipping them in a pool. His eyes seem to be aimlessly wandering the streets below. Perhaps in search of answers, or for the express purpose of avoiding my stare. I'm sure he can hear my footsteps by now. Come to think of it, he might even be able to smell the fear on me. A turtle's sense of smell is surprisingly –

Raph's gruff voice interrupts my rambling thoughts before they can even begin, startling me enough to make me visibly flinch.

"What do _you_ want?"

Manners have never been my immediate older brother's strong suit. Not unless you're one of his beloved pets or a certain Salamandrian named 'Mona Lisa.'

This is clearly going to be even harder than I thought, and I already thought it was going to be impossible.

"H – Hey, Raph."

The cords in my brother's neck tense up at the sound of my voice, but other than that, there's no other movement to acknowledge my presence. He doesn't even bother to look up, as if it's too much effort.

"Lemme guess. Fearless sent you up here to talk me into coming home so he can lecture me the rest of the night."

"Actually, Leo didn't send me. I volunteered."

Raph lets out a small snort at this, evidently amused by my comments. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

If I had a dollar for every time someone said something along that line…

"So did I."

When I see my brother's shoulders start to slouch, I figure it's safe to move a bit closer, although I make sure to keep an arm's distance between us. No sense in putting myself directly in the line of fire. Especially when sitting on the ledge of a rooftop.

There's an awkward silence that follows as we both wait for each other to say something. Finally, I break the ice, proving once again that Raphael is even more stubborn than me.

"It's, uh, a little chilly out tonight, don't you think? Almost feels like snow."

"Cut the crap, Donnie! I know why you're here! Just come out and say it!"

Well, that certainly could've gone better. So much for making small talk…

I guess I should've expected his snippy reaction. It's not like Raph's going to get nominated for a sparkling personality contest any time soon.

"I'm not here to convince you to come back to the lair, if that's what you're thinking. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

As usual, Raph's response to my concern is a spiteful grunt.

Sort of makes a turtle feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

NOT!

"Obviously, I'm perfectly fine, so I guess you can go now. I'm sure you've got some 'sciency' thing you could be working on instead of buggin' me."

This, ladies and gentlemen, is precisely the reason why Raph and I don't exchange greeting cards.

I'm half-tempted to walk away with most of my dignity still intact, but if my hotheaded brother doesn't come home tonight, Mikey's going to totally freak out about it and do the whole dramatic, big, teary eyes thing. Quite honestly, listening to my baby brother whine is a fate far worse than death – or in this case, Raph.

*sigh*

"Perfectly fine, huh? Is that why you tried to rearrange Leo's face with your fists earlier?"

"Would you rather I try rearranging your face, instead?"

I gulp somewhat loudly, making it glaringly obvious that I'm intimidated by my brother's threat of violence.

Way to play it cool, Donatello.

Remember, he can smell fear? You already pointed it out earlier.

"So, are you gonna tell me what's bothering you, or are we both gonna sit out here freezing our shells off all night? Not that I'm pressuring you or anything. I'm just trying to plan my evening."

Raph shrugs his shoulders, pretending to be apathetic, but his face tells a different story. It's the same sad look he had worn just before walking out of the lair.

Against my better judgment, I slowly inch towards Raph so that we're only about a foot apart, but despite the closer proximity, it still seems as though my brother's about a million miles away.

Something tells me I know why, but I'm not about to push Raph into a confession he doesn't want to make. He never pushes me to talk about my feelings when I don't want to. I owe him the same courtesy. And so, I just sit beside him in silence, patiently waiting for him to decide whether he wants to talk about what happened or not.

Several wordless minutes crawl by before Raphael finally speaks in a voice that sounds strangely brittle and defenseless.

"I killed him."

For all my genius, I have no clue how to respond to this, so I simply spit out the first thing that pops into my head.

"Y – You what?"

"I killed that guy who worked for Doc Frankenstein. I shoved him right out a window. I just killed him, like his life meant nothing."

Okay, as awful as this sounds, I'm actually relieved to hear the cause of 'Igor's' death wasn't vampire related. Not because I wanted that creepy dude to die, but because the thought of my brother exsanguinating someone is just plain disturbing.

Raph lets out a heavy sigh and I realize he's probably waiting for me to say something, but I'm still trying to process what my brother just confessed. I mean, it's not every day someone drops a bomb like this on me. I need time to think.

Once the initial shock starts to wear off and I'm able to swallow past the thick lump in my throat, I turn towards my brother, making sure he can see the sincerity written across my face. At least, I hope that's what's written there and not some utterly appalled expression.

"What happened… It wasn't your fault."

"How is it _not_ my fault?" This question isn't combative, like one would expect from my hotheaded brother. Instead, it's full of despair. At long last, his eyes meet mine and I can see the hurt he's been trying so hard to hide.

"You weren't yourself, Raph. You didn't have any control over your actions. Just like I didn't when I attacked Mikey _and_ Leo. Heck, I even tried to bite Frankenstein."

"But you didn't kill someone, Donnie! I murdered that guy without a single shred of remorse."

I would've pointed out the fact that the 'guy' Raph had killed wasn't exactly a fine, upstanding citizen if I thought it would do any good. That's not what my brother needs to hear right now. I know from experience that it won't help to ease his guilt. Sometimes, the memory of nearly taking out that gangster, Don Vizioso, still keeps me awake at night, even months later. And I didn't actually take a life.

I can't even begin to imagine what my brother must be feeling inside.

"Raph, please don't do this to yourself. It wasn't your fault. And the fact that you're showing remorse for it now is proof that you would've never done something like that if you weren't under Dracula's control. You can't blame yourself for this. It'll make you crazy."

"But what if it isn't just because I was a vampire? What if it's more than that, Donnie? You already pointed out that I tried to rearrange Leo's face, and I don't even remember what the stupid argument was about! I'm always losing my temper. What's wrong with me? Why do I have to act like such a jerk all the time?"

There are no words to truly describe how incredibly tempting it is to say something sarcastic in response. An opportunity like this doesn't just fall into one's lap on a regular basis, but I somehow manage to restrain myself.

You know, I really deserve a medal or an award of some sort for my efforts. A lesser turtle might've caved under that kind of pressure.

"You're not a bad person, Raph. You're just…" My brief pause for an appropriate adjective leaves an unintentional opening for my brother to interject.

"A monster?"

Raph's comment makes my muscles go rigid, to the point that even my toes cringe with dread.

He can't honestly believe that, can he?

Much to my dismay, the somber look on his face tells me that he can.

"That isn't true, Raph! Not at all! I'm just as guilty of losing my temper as you are. Does that make _me_ a monster?" A little reverse psychology never hurts, right?

"Of course not, but you don't start hitting everything in sight when you get mad." Though Raphael makes a good point, my comeback's nothing to scoff at.

"No, I just wig out and snap at everyone. Like that's really constructive." Just thinking about all the times I've practically bitten someone's head off causes me to grimace. It's not exactly something I'm proud of. I oftentimes wonder if Raph is really the one who should be dubbed the resident hothead.

"Well, it's a heck of a lot better than hauling off and throat-punching someone just 'cause you're in a bad mood." Okay, you can strike my previous thought. But I'm _definitely_ a close second.

"I'm not saying your way of dealing with conflict is perfect, but neither is mine, or anyone else's for that matter. We all handle anger in our own unique way, Raph. You hit things, I yell at people, Mikey stomps his feet and pouts, and Leo… He – Well, you know how Leo is."

"Oh, I know how he is, all right. Pain in the a– "

"Adam's apple." I'm quick to finish my brother's sentence, effectively keeping the language barrier at a PG-level.

Raph finally cracks a smile at this and I can't help but feel a genuine sense of accomplishment.

My brother then turns and looks at me with a devilish twinkle in his eyes. "That's totally what I was gonna say."

"Right…" My highly skeptical response makes both of us start to laugh. And I mean _really_ laugh. Something the two of us haven't done for quite some time now. Maybe not since –

We lost Master Splinter…

The laughter soon fades away and the night falls silent once again. Well, silent for New York City.

We both stare off into space, temporarily lost in our thoughts, until my brother's unusually tentative voice sounds out.

"Donnie?"

"Yeah, Raph?"

"Do you still feel the cravings sometimes? Like… Like the hunger's still there?" Raph rubs his hands together, as though he's trying to wring them out. A sure sign that he's nervous about asking something so personal.

In all actuality, I've been meaning to ask Raph the same thing for some time now, but I was afraid of his answer. I worried that I might be the only one still tormented by the yearnings. I guess my hotheaded brother and I have a lot more in common than I thought.

"Yeah, every now and then. I imagine it's similar to people experiencing phantom pain after suffering a traumatic spinal cord injury or losing a limb or an organ. It's not unusual for patients who've had an arm or a leg amputated to continue to feel sensations, as if the missing limb was still, in fact, attached."

"You always know just how to ruin a moment, don't you?"

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I timidly mutter, "Too much information?"

My brother throws these same words right back at me in the form of a snide answer. "Too much information."

Less than a second later, Raph's lips coil up into a warm grin while he gently bumps my shoulder with his own, nonverbally telling me that things are going to be okay. Then, he says something that just about makes my jaw drop to the ground. "Thanks, Brainiac."

Though I'm not exactly sure what it is that my brother is thanking me for, I grin in acceptance. After all, it's not very often Raph actually expresses gratitude. Mostly he just slaps you upside the head.

"Anytime, Raph."

I push myself up to my feet, mistakenly assuming it's time to go home, but my brother makes no motion to get up. He just sits there, wearily staring out over the city once again.

I have to wonder if he's been having trouble sleeping, too, but I don't ask. Instead, I attempt to be the voice of reason, as always.

"We should probably head back to the lair. It's getting late."

"You go on. I think I'm gonna stay out here a little while longer."

As much as I want to crawl into my nice, warm bed right now, something compels me to stay. I sit back down next to Raph and cast a blank gaze towards nothing in particular.

"What are you doing, Don?"

"Well, I certainly can't show up at the lair without you. Leo won't be able to resist telling me I should've just listened to him and Mikey will be an even bigger pain in the shell than normal. I think I'm a lot better off where I'm at."

"True… So, you wanna go see what Casey's up to?"

If I'm being honest here, I don't actually care what Casey's up to. If the bonehead had a lick of sense, he'd be at home sleeping like the rest of the kids who have school in the morning, but I'm sure he's out doing something incredibly idiotic, like jumping his bike off rooftops or rollerblading down some really, really steep hill. There's a reason why most of his teeth are missing. Ugh, I can just hear him shouting something along the line of: 'This is so metal, yo!' or 'Goongala!' The guy's got the IQ of a stale marshmallow.

On the other hand, as much as I dread the idea of hanging out with Casey Jones, I can't remember the last time Raphael willingly asked me to do something with him. As a matter of fact, I think I can probably count the number of times he's ever done so on one hand, and I only have three fingers.

Against my better judgment, I soon find myself nodding my consent.

"Sure. Why not?"

With that said, Raph eagerly leaps up to his feet, already raring to go. A wicked smirk spreads across his face, letting me know it's going to be a long night.

The sensible part of my brain is quick to point out that Leo isn't going to be happy about this. Not one little bit. But for the first time in forever, I listen to the rarely heard impulsive voice inside my head telling me to stop being such a goody-two-shoes.

After all, us middle brothers have to stick together, right?

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: This story was such a joy to write. Soooooo much sass and sarcasm. \\(~o~)/**_

 _ **Please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on 'TMNT Shell Shots' to let me know if you are enjoying these stories. I always love hearing from all of you. Thank you so much for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_


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